Catharsis.

"I've a very analytic mind,"
I said, pouring smooth coffee
into two clean mugs.
"I am oriented towards details,
not the insignificant ones,
but parts that mesh
and form the whole,
and the parts that aren't there,
but contribute to the whole
nonetheless."

"What do you mean?"
she seemed to say, cooly
buzzing, miles away,
sipping my coffee,
sweetning my day.

"Well its just those things
no one can see,
but they're small or innocuous;
they appear to me.
They are there.
That's how I know."

She reclined across the chair
and sighed; a softening breathlessness,
her eyes inside.