May I?

May I offer you
the bread of comradeship?
The salt of truth?
the wine of deep remembering
...and the courtesy of my heart?

And this other poem of mine suggests what I hope to find in a relationship:

PASSING THE SALT

The thing is, we've none of us found the stranger yet,
with whom to open the perfect conversation.
Faces we take to be unknown, glide
into sly familiarity, the warmth of once particular skin,
phrases that appeal to us now
because they did then.

There are things we still haven't said.
That we are frightened sometimes,
though there's no reason for it--because
there's no reason for it. And,
in a certain tone of voice, "I love you."

It takes everything to say "I love you"
in just that way, as if it were nothing
--'Please pass the salt,'
or a belch in easy company.

Again and again, behind some face
that pretends to be new to us
there lies hidden that other
to which we answered dutifully once,
"I love you,
too." The face of an aunt who died young
of self-pity or an uncle
who rested his hand on your shoulder
and left it damp to the bone.

Or a lover, known, who became unknown.
But still we believe in him or in her
and whisper, "Come. Feel free. Speak,"
in voices that haven't yet grown familiar even to us.
We believe in the stranger's inarticulateness
as we believe in our own.

Which of us has learned already to speak?

Since I'm not looking for anything romantic, our first contact wouldn't be a date but the chance to get acquainted in an open, trusting way...