Are my thoughts really silent for another?
Or does sound escape from the bone walls of my skull?
As sometimes you do speak my mind so well
And I often scream my silent wonder, so
It would make sense to me
That by hearing you could tell.
Is my hope of private thoughts a disillusion?
Confusion, I start thinking you are psychic,
All my feelings, likes and dislikes an open book perhaps.
Then you ask me about coffee, milk and sugar?
Stuff I think that you would know.
Relieved I realise
My secret thoughts will never show.
Black! No sugar!