Frontal Folly
If you love me,
rid me of this throbbing pain,
this cruel joke,
which has blushed my face with embarassment.
Your mouth speaks truths of love I shun;
truths which justify and validate our parting of ways,
our separate hearts and veins.
Love is patient,
but not in me.
Quite a haste my heart makes for you and yours alone.
Love is kind,
and kind I am and always will be
to the man who cradles the key to access the gleaming jewel.
Love has chosen us to wear its promise.
I am clothed.
Naked are you.
I am warm as Spring's sunlight,
and you are drafted with chilling winds.
Here, take my sweater.
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