What see you when you sit and quiet look?
How much of my intent can you divine?
I feel exposed: a flat and open book
Revealed to all--no thoughts to own as mine.
My every spoken word you claim and file
Away as reference upon my soul.
Thus listening, assembling all the while,
You glean the several parts to make the whole.
It's `What see you in me?' and, `Do you think?'
That subtly put me from my selfish guard.
Each answer moves me closer to the brink
Of revelation as I loose each word.
Yet you instil in me an urgent need
To talk about my love and set it free.