They ask me what I see,
What I see when I'm dreaming,
What I see when I'm listening,
What I see when I'm writing,
But I don't see; I understand,
I understand how minds work,
I understand how hearts work,
I understand how my world works,
But I don't understand them.
Why can't people accept it?
Why do they need to know why?
Why do they want to know?
But they don't want to know why; they want to know what.
If I see their futures,
If I see the dead,
If I see words before me,
But I don't see; I understand.
So when they ask, what do I see in you?
I don't reply. I smile,
Because when I dream,
And I listen,
And I write,
You know what I see?
What I've always seen:
You.