You, the ever faithful, have put up with so much,
You must have fought every cell,
Every trial He through toward,
Every being that told you to dissolve
Down into temptation impure;
Through desire that talks with a second whisper,
What you have managed is a beauty.
Watch me fall now – as I must for your honest
Sake, there picked through
My dangerous profession.
Certain worry is your forte, but my friction
Pulls it towards us (connection not to be),
Flooding into my veins reflects dramatics
Just enough for me to deny
Everything I ever wrote
In block capitals as a forgotten sign
Or the whispers I recoiled with
(Such things I hoped to embroil you with).
Yes, in those prayerful tears, I begged
To be changed into the beautiful form
Predicted to be beside you;
In my inverted colours did I see
Any messages I hoped to see:
Fraud displayed and painted on the insides
Of my petty eyelids. But for you,
I would have fought accusations
(Only those accusations of your own).
Instead, I let it all consume me,
Those bitter pieces so that you would not
Be subject to scorn and mockery
Of someone just as kind and warm.
Alas, if only I were better suited to this.
Never did I think I'd say that
My entire world revolved around
A faithful disinterest –
Yet it is that which I respect.
Maybe one day we will both share respect
For my own type of amorous faithful.

The End

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