When all my hubris humus through has sieved

[joel]

When all my hubris humus through has sieved
still love me wholly dead who holy lived.

When all my hubris humus through has sieved
and in humiliation left in peace
for hermit meditation, when all dreams
emblazoned vividly disperse and whine
awakened yawns and pass forgotten, when
attractive pride turns honored age’s waste—
still nonetheless am I a marvel now
and handsome as the marks of love allow
me manifest myself: me faithful, chaste
and dedicated. Should you love me, then
shall I be satisfied— shall I resign
in rapture hope to rot; and hope these reams
of love for you teach you to, when I cease,
still love me wholly dead who holy lived.

[stilltrucking]

I love this poem Joel.