He loves the disgusting part of me
but does his yearning beautifully.
What? Should I feel disgust?
I would, and by my dignity, I must.
No. I mutually love the disgusting
as it lives in him and with him, trusting.
It is how love is—it has no dignity.
True love succumbs to honesty.
You know this truth is true.
I put it in a poem for you.