Questions Poem by Unintelligible Susurration

What are you thinking?
I'm not thinking anything.
I do think
you think too much.

What do you care?
I don't care.
Care is something
I've placed in a pile
with the crumpled papers.

Why do you love?
Why?
Is there such thing
as a reason as to why
I love each and every
person, place, and thing?

Do you hate me?
Hatred accomplishes
nothing.
We surely would
have been given
a dark, infinite aperture
to reserve animosity.

Please refrain
from asking
such foolish questions
if all along
they've been placed
right in front of you.