If Ever

I doubt
I could ever be mad at you.
God forbid
if ever I do,
I’ll pay myself the fare
of disappointment
and shame
for reaching that destination.

If ever,
a raging passion
swells irrationally within,
a wave of fits
curl the corner of my lips,
a tide rises high
above the dams of self-control,
let it be broken
upon your shores
in the form of a love
unbound.

If ever,
this tempest,
this cyclonic life of mine
gets the better of me,
just know
your love has already
taken the best of me.

If ever,
you feel obliged to question
whatever I’m feeling,
you may safely
sever the thought
of maleficent intent.

My adoration of you
wields more patience
than tolerance.
So whatever the inquiry
you have levered upon your tongue,
if ever it be:
“Are you mad at me?”
I desire you to know
indubitably,
the answer will ever be
never.

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