if I could read your mind
were I not so blind
would I care?

having understood
seen all that I could
would I despair?

you speak so calmly
of alarming states
the worst of my dreams
your conscious stream
when you are awake
but your face
not a trace
the occasional smile
of your wit and your wile
are all that never escape

years spent at practising
the art of mastering
a deeply deceiving
tranquil composure

all this I can see
it's not enough for me
I'm sorry I still haven't met you