For the sake of modesty, this entire sonnet lies below the cut.
I want to love my love kenotically:
To go before her and my body bring
Presented to her sacrificially,
Pour out for her my every precious thing -
A sentiment of love that terrifies,
A sentiment, perhaps, I ought not say;
And love, I hear the urge to analyze
This urge of mine, to throw myself away
On altar of agape, there to burn
With fire of love 'til none of me remains; -
I do desire that; and love, I yearn
To embrace you, with all embracing pains.
Intimidating, love, to ask and see
If you accept my offering of me.