ALL MY BUGS (for Harry Caul)

Your whispers are mine,
loud and clear.
Your every emotion
I can hear
Your whispers are mine;
I'm not ashamed.
No secrets safe
in my game.
I've many ears
to many walls.
Your words belong
to Harry Caul.

My quiet destroyer
is my paranoia,
looming over,
tapping my shoulder,
lurking in dark
in every park,
plotting my doom
in every room,
feeling it creep
when I try to sleep,
taunted and haunted
by all of my sins,
taunted and haunted
by all of my bugs

Your whispers are mine,
loud and clear.
Your every emotion
I can hear.
Your whispers are mine;
I'm not ashamed.
No secrets safe
in my game.
Too many ears;
too many walls.
The soul on the line
is Harry Caul's.

(based on The Conversation)