Think not, mon ami*, of my reserve;
I am not so prudish as I seem,
not scandalized at the very thought
of intimacy.

Think, mon ami, of my blush;
it is not in embarrassment
that my cheeks color, but for the rush
that patience resists.

Remember, mon ami
that my dearest wish
is all the closeness of
faces, hands, minds, and hearts.

Remember, mon ami
that I will be had by only one
and that having takes time,
like knowing and loving.

Remember, mon ami
that virtuous patience,
whose reward grows
with every waiting breath.

Remember, mon ami
that in my silence
my heart beats all the louder,
treasuring all your words.

Remember, mon ami
should I ever forget to,
or you cannot see my face,
my soul will smile every smile.

Remember, mon ami.