...a different sort of intrigue

One by one, I proclaim your inspirations,
Although your coldness wounds
The idyllic warmth with which I've always
Sung your praises, hymn of the eternally admired.

Cautiously, I gather your jewels,
And my condolences,
Holding them close to my heart;
Comfort between our frosty, bitter silences.

I have learned to become content
Simply to admire at a distance,
As some treasures shine most bright
When offered less freely.

Although you loved me once,
I forgive you.