Love is kind; he'd always say.
And she believed him;
For he had nothing else attached to his.
It was pure;
It had a lot to do with who she was becoming.
His kinda love would let her be.
Happy; or free
He'd love her still.
'Self-love is not selfish' he'd told her once.
But she'd always wondered;
Was it possible to be perfectly candid with oneself and not be afraid of the whole truth?
He'd always caused her to contemplate things;
But mostly; he'd caused her to contemplate her.