Subtlety Poem by Danny The Dreamer Boyd

I've had my share—enough! —of hidden hints,
And got but tired of obscurity:
So now I say to hell with subtlety;
I've had my share of many shabby glints!
And though you think—and wrong—you're made of flints,
I have, with all my heart, to disagree;
Yet you to see must be inside of me,
And I'll condone your leaving any dents.
I could mean you when I yet speak of dawn,
And mention you in every written word,
Yet none doth know the one I'm thinking of:
And hence, —like one the sun has shined upon—
I echo warmth within which must be heard:
When I yet speak of you I speak of love!