Tears Of Oil Crushed Myrrh Poem by Mark Heathcote

My love is fraying away
unpicked threads daily
unravelling her endless yarns
talking almost incessantly
my love is-now-unstitching
every past argument we've had.
'There are times it is enriching,

She is driving me quite mad.'
I think, O God, I love her.

Then, I wait for her deft sigh!
Tears of oil crushed myrrh
ask how why you made me cry.
It's then I gently kiss her
-when she's feeling more - demure.