I tried to sneak past the borders of friendship unnoticed.
Quietly though my heart contumously objected.
I held my ideals close and my heart closer, feigning inanimaticy.
My heart betrayed with obstreperous poundings.
Lo, you detected me.
Approaching with a sure step, you questioned for subterfuge.
Curiously, on your behalf, you found no weapons.
The things you did find however, you were hesitant to possess.
Yet my obstinate heart demanded confiscation. You acquiesced.
You took my ideals and heart and placed them on your person.
Imbibing the lot, I had no longer ideals but you.
I had no longer a heart but you.
What shall I do now that you are gone?
What are ideals?
Where is my heart?