Poem for Lovers

blood or tears, darling;
anything but stillness
steal not thy pain,
shield not thy weakness:

I would adorn thy perfection
like jewels in a crown;
but think me not fragile
relegated to your gilt boxes

for as thou art wounded
I would be thy bandage
as thy muscles weaken
I would be thy repast

do not think me too proud
to be thy pillow;
too weak to be thy shield

and were I either do not think
I would not rather be broken
than yearn alone for you.