Drifts and Promises

Your sweet breaths and perfumes provoke so, have I found love in this drift of circumstance? DO you love me? If so, pray, swear it on the tireless sea, whose thrashing cold, intemperate waters will last forever. I swear it freely, on the sea, on breath, and on life itself - may both be forfit should my vow prove shallow perjury. As pronounced vows become curses, if they be lies, truth only ripens, its harvest yielding the sweetest fruit