Sonnet 86: Was it the proud full sail of his great verse~William Shakespeare

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Was it his spirit, by spirits taught to write

Sometimes I wonder about my partner. He's so intelligent, cunning...a perfect spy; if it weren't for the fact that we're best friends.

Spies aren't supposed to have attachments, but ours, I think, makes us stronger.

Illya hides his past, his feelings...his soul; if he'd admit to having one.

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Which nightly gulls him with intelligence,

He lets free snippets of his vast information...what is truth or falsehoods? Is it from years in the spy business? Old habits...

I trust him with my life, and he trusts me and that's all that counts in the long run.

His personal life doesn't matter; yet still, I'm curious.