Do not speak of your love for me
Rather, translate the whisperings of the autumn leaves
Untangle the constellations and hand me their meanings
Relay to me your every waking moment
Draw out for me your dreams, buried beneath years of tiresome life
Show me how the earth spins
Explain the space between the seafoam and the warm grains of sand
            tell me of the miles between the two
Scream the joys of the morning and give me your sorrows at sunset
    that I may use the moonlight to heal them
Trust me with your deepest fear, and know that I will be able to lead you through.
Do not SPEAK of your love for me
Those compliments are vanities, showered with a laziness
You think me so shallow
That my world is centered upon  only your thoughts for me
No.
Tell me the secrets of life.
Tell me of you.
Tell me of everything.
Tell me of nothing.
Because, dearest one, you seem to have forgotten.
I know myself.