You think you know me.
You know my name; you know my face, so you think you understand me,
and you say, “I hear what you’re saying.”
I say I’m cold;
you think I need a sweatshirt, but I feel indifferent.
I say run;
you think Dodgers, I think danger.
I say book;
you think Nook, while I think Cloud.
I say paper;
you think Times, and I think pages to fill.
I say fence;
you think walling in, I think walling out.
I say dog;
you think ugly girl, I think canine.
I say travel;
you think desert, I think Paris.
I say love;
you think sex, and I think Snickers.
I say "like";
you think sex, while I think WordPress.
I say rich;
you think ten-year plan, I think fattening.
I say, “Do you hear what I’m saying,”
and you say, “Yeah, I hear you.”
Good.
I’m glad we understand each other.
