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
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