Before you turn and finally part,
Unwind this tourniquet from...

Enough! You know the rhyme and how it ends:

“...blah, blah, blah, from my heart”

Too much angst for me. I refuse the rejected lover's curtain call.

No more: “Your neck gave no early warning
  Of warm seduction in the morning.”

And some: “Your neck gave no early warning,
     That it needs shaving in the morning.”

This is cathartic.

You might have liked: “Your tresses, spread like Sif's woven gold,
  Are plated  on my inner soul.”

But now: “Your tresses  shined like Sif's woven gold
     Will thin and grey as you grow old.”

Ouch! But I'm feeling better.

I could have written:   “Your nose bridges such eyes and lips
  That shame golden flowering May cowslips.”

Instead: “That nose that bridges eyes and lips
       With time and gravity droop and drip.”

Are you getting my inner self yet?

You will miss: “Legs that lead to heaven's gate,
  Held promise if I deigned to wait.”

I won't miss with: “Those legs that lead to heaven's gate
  Now hinged for all  below the waist.”

Funny, isn't it, how one's outlook changes.

Oh! Your eyes and teeth.

“Your eyes are black holes stealing light,
  Your teeth like yellow stars at night.”

Do I feel better now?