words unspoken

I know that you can see right through my disguise.
Hard as I might try, I cannot throw a veil over your eyes.
My words are a fabric, torn to pieces by your mind.
All that is tangled, it unwinds.
My thoughts, my deeds are naked to your sight,
be it during day or in the depth of the night.
Yet you speak not of it to me, and I know why.
But for you, I am a living lie.
Though I wish you'd reach out to me
through actions only I could see.
A manner of exchange so discreet,
yet our minds, our hearts, our souls would meet.
We would remain strangers even still,
but for paper, ink and quill.