by Juliette Sebock
He hates cliché, so
it makes sense that we’re anything but.
No Romeo, no Juliet,
a rose is just a rose
and the violets stay purple, never blue.
Then again, neither are we—
blue, that is.
How could I be blue when I’m standing with you?
As a matter of fact, I’m happy as a clam.
Your place or mine?
Out loud, I laugh.
With tongue in cheek,
we wish upon a star
and wonder if we’ve gone too far.
leaving us up a creek, the paddle long gone,
but we aren’t the kind to take it easy.
Truth is stranger than fiction,
but there’s no time like the presence
and now it’s do or die.
And then the most cliché;
through it all,
clams shells and clichés
and turns of phrase
I love you.
Juliette Sebock is a poet, writer, and the founding editor of Nightingale & Sparrow. She has published a poetry chapbook, Mistakes Were Made, and has work forthcoming in publications including Royal Rose Mag, Marias at Sampaguitas, Reclaim: An Anthology of Women’s Poetry, and Paper Trains Literary Journal. She also runs a lifestyle blog, For the Sake of Good Taste. Find her online at juliettesebock.com or follow her @juliettesebock on Twitter or Instagram.