Melt

When I started to think,
About what I would write,
The look in your face,
Was first in my sight.
The pull in your mouth,
The spite behind words,
But I've promised myself,
Not to be so absurd,
As to give you the strength,
To give you power,
To get in to my head,
And have my day to sour.
So I'll honour my feelings,
And write as I felt,
But consider it cleansed,
And that judgement can melt.