Another

Eyes watch me that were not yours, and I look back to see your soul: the you that never was. I speak to you and hear you answer, meaning clear as summer sun. Unspoken words echoing about within my mismatched mind. It is you, I am sure, no word of any other. Who else could be so clear? Who other’s gaze could pierce so deep and speak so much without need for sound be made?

Fragments of you you have dropped, I learn to paint your portrait. I have captured you here, your image true: behold my detail refined. “Be not a fool,” you say to me, but your face is too inviting. “If I am a fool, then let me ask: to whom do I now speak?” And so comes again your answer. “You are no fool,” you say to me, “rather lost in unknown land.”

And thus is my wish: to sail sea uncharted. And thus do I long: to learn and explore. Yet I stand here in my home. No ship ever have I sailed. Rays of light reach through the sky, they land upon my image. I hold my hands before me and wonder who I see. Who takes them? Who stands before me? To what does day’s light come?

If it is not you, who else to be? Who shall face me in my reflection? These things I feel are surely truth, as truthful as am I aware. And aware I am that I gaze into the eyes of another. And aware I am that my hands paint your portrait. And aware I am that your voice is of another. And aware I am that I am the fool.

If I knew you, would I paint you? If I knew you, would I collect the fragments that you leave behind? Would you stand as a landmark in the seas yet unknown? Would you have the answers to my questions? If I knew you, perhaps I would be alone. I would rather find you beautiful. I would rather seek meaning in your soul. I would rather gather your fragments and paint your portraits than see a face I do not know.