How do I impress you?

By insisting that my love is absolute and unconditional?
By finding new and ever more elaborate ways to demonstrate my hopeless devotion?

By opening up my heart to you fully for your indifferent inspection?

Should I peel off
The mask of casual bravado to for you to see unfettered the festering mass of insecurity, obsession and shameful secret from which I am wrought?

By declaring unreservedly my utter devotion; and that I am utterly unable to imagine a life without you? To make it clear that your desertion would render my tender frame wholly murdered?

By rudely expelling from your head
whatever now is left
Of that work of fiction which you have created;
And confessed to love on that moonlit night three years ago?

Not likely.