I swear if we met, I could not behave.*

I don't like or trust them
Why is this a shock?
She seemed pretty adamant
When I read that she called
On the occasion I bare my soul
the truth in quiet spurts
you react with such rightious indignation
I question, should I ask permission first?:

"Oh dearest, my darling, my one love true
May I ask a simple favor of you?"

"May I ask you to speak plainly of what was before?
Of those wretched lovers and those glorified whores?
.. and promise me the truth is it's most honest of forms?"

But I wouldn't dare to bother with such precious woes
For the answer I fear (and assume) would be, "No."