Don’t want to know your favorite color

Or the name of the woman that broke your heart.

Don’t need to know what kind of car you drive

How your father treated you as a child.

Don’t want to see how it feels to be you

Or know what your favorite food is.

Don’t want to understand the inner workings of your mind

Or how long you’ve been living in that city.

Don’t want you to tell me about the books you’ve read

Or tell me what a great cook your mother was.

Don’t want you to tell me where you want this to go;

Just tell me how to love you.

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