You are such an intrigue, they tell me.
So distant. Composed. Reserved.
I want to know everything about you.
What you are thinking, feeling, sensing.
Surely you are hiding many secrets?
You have made an art of silence.
What is it behind those pretty eyes?
Tell me everything; I must know.
I smile and take my bow and leave.
To linger is to be found out.
My hidden secret must be kept.
For their sake and not mine.
One day, I should like to answer plainly.
One day, when I no longer care.
That day, I will look them in the eye
And show them that there is nothing there.