Sitting, she opened the lapel of my jacket and from
My shirt pocket – she took my pen.
Then from her purse she pulled out a small diary
And carefully unwound the ribbon from its leather binding
Until it opened her into the next available page.

“Shall I write” she asked, “Or is it – I shall write?”
Questioning her flippant words I reply,
“But is there a difference?”
“Oh yes”, she said, “There is the greatest of differences –
For in the one there is a question while in the other there is a statement.”

“Hum,” said I – thinking ore her commentary – “Yes I suppose
In one sense with one remark you are the slave while
In the other remark you are the master.”
I watched as she wrote into her diary today’s date and then
She wrote, “His mind works in a perfect circle.”

“Why did you write that?” I questioned.
“Because I must be a slave to what I write,” she responded.
“I beg to differ madam”, said I, “That was clearly a
Statement – a statement about me – that makes you the master.”
“No”, she said, “I am merely serving YOUR pen.''

I am apt to be taken with all kinds of people at first sight:
But never more so than when a poor devil comes to offer
Her opinions to an even poorer devil as I.
Oh I know my own weaknesses as I always suffer them in every thought,
Drawing concentric rings about them according to the mood that I am in.

“Is it because I’m a woman?” she asked, “Does my gender preclude
My ability to be a slave to words or do you believe all women are the master?”
I thought on her questions for a minute seeing full well the trap that she
Was so eloquently leading me into – for on the one hand I am to lead -
While on the other – and this one must be the real truth – I am to be led.

“When you first walked into the lobby”, I said, “I found myself
After every excuse that I could make to my soul to meet you.
Your genuine look and the very air around you at once
Determined that any matter between us was in your favor.
So I came over to you to see what it was that you wanted me to do.”

She put the pen to the paper once more and wrote, “Well almost
A perfect circle but somewhere the circle seems to be broken.”
“Now hold on a minute,” I said wrapping my arms on my chest, “You want
To write in your diary that MY CIRCLE is broken when you’ve not
Had the benefit of my accompaniment for more than a mere 5 minutes?”

She looked into my face, “OH - I - SEE, you take an offense that I sum up
Your worth based upon less than 5 minutes with you when you yourself
Just said that you came over to me – without knowing me mind you – to see
What it was that “I” wanted YOU to do – excuse me but if anyone here is
Being presumptuous - then “I” think that it must surely be you.”

I walked around her chair to the left in a broad
Circle until I came directly up to her on the one side of the seat.
“You know”, I remarked, “You may be right my circle may be broken
For it seems like there is SOMETHING IN MY WAY.”
She put my pen to her paper again and wrote “He’s a little slow but -

Thank God I think there’s some hope for him still. We SHALL see –
Or is it – SHALL we see?”
She handed me my pen, closed her diary and re-wrapped the ribbon about
It being sure to bookmark her place – her place? My Place?
She held out her hand and I took it in mine helping her to her feet.

“Yes, I suppose WE shall see”: I said as I kissed the back of her hand and
Then we turned to walk side by side toward the elevator corridor.
We reached the elevators and one door was open so we stepped aboard.
The door closed - “No one is a slave nor are they the master -
There can be no perfect circle until that truth is realized,” she whispered.

She turned to me as the elevator rose,
“We have to stop meeting like this”, I said.
“Oh but I know how you like roll playing”, she answered.
“But I was hoping that this time I could lead you”, I replied.
“You know you love it”, she whispered as she pushed the button marked

**Stop!!