I have not always loved you as sweetly, kindly, and doubtlessly as I do now. I have no remorse for the years of which there are so many, those years in which I did not know you as I now do. But, I have taken words from your mouth and whispers from your skin. I have taken soft horse-hair brushes and painted the flush on your cheek with pale tea roses, softer than any silk. I have wrapped your neck in foxes, like a halo of renewal, like a crown of destruction. You have been my bride and I have felt for you.