unconcerned

I'm unconcerned as to whether
the love you have for me is true.
You say it is. Fair enough: so be
it. I require no proofs, desire no
assurances or guarantees. For my part,
though,
please.
Let me tender you this
inviolable
oath:

I swear upon all I hold precious:
Upon your lips
upon your sweet patootie
and your hoo hoo
upon your bazooms
and your other, (arguably)
less sexually-charged
parts - but really though,
that's bull because your fingers
and toes, your chin and nose,
your eyes
your hair from roots to tips
all your fine lines, sweeping
curves and surfaces that come
together to make one really
rather stunning package in my mind,
in my book, in my hands or preferably
in my lap - well. The whole is so much
more than some list of exquisite parts,
each of them so precious individually,
but taken together I will take them
together and I will take them forever.
I will take you forever.

My life, so much
as is left to me to live,
so much as is in my gift
to give,

I give to you.

(but you already knew)