a love like none other

There isn't a heart 
that grows apart
and "alters when alterations finds."
To quote Shakespeare,
 and all our fears, 
that grows within
though remain sublime.

The affections and affectations 
of soul and mind.
The ardor that always abides.
I desist, it impels;
I deride, it excels.
It is myself; the other kind,
the true love, the redamancy.
I love me, like me, like none other,
my nit; my wit;
my virtues, my vice;
that nurture me and seldom falter.
it is my self; my inner self.