Try, Try Again

Today, I decide to ask you again
About your iron-will and it's origin. 
But my lips betray
The intended question to convey.
Instead of "Why?"
It was "How?" said I.
"How do you find your strength?"
 I bite my tongue down it's length,
Cursing its traitorous nature,
As those peridot eyes of yours
Gaze at me with splendor.
Your surprise meets with silence;
We both do nothing but acquiesce 
To my mouth and it's nasty habits.
So I listen, straining my hearing
To catch a hint of your shallow breathing.
You've weakened, my friend;
But you're still stronger, instead.
How can this be?
It's nothing I see. 
But when you bridge the sea,
Arm stretching out towards me,
And light graces the dark with the brush of a fingertip;
In my moment of awe, you make your quip:
"My breath is not my own."
But that's not what I wanted to know. 

The End

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