I fear I only love
the story of you and what you were.
Your bright eyed promise has given way
to any angry and bittering woman,
the product of our troubled age.

I have no desire for your flaws,

I only want your child summer eyes
hands unspoiled,
the empty vessel of optimistic youth.

I want you the way I left you and not the way you're found.

In selfish honesty and shallow pursuit...