Do you want to know me? Do you know self? That person
came out to visit. By far a primitive alien. By waves as it tiptoes boldly. I remember
a lady. She was huge. She was moved and poised while possessed. She was
distant, watchful, vigilant into the nights. She was said to fight, quite
often, gashes running down her arms. Just a glimpse. Just a grunion. Just facts
slipping in the darkness. Do you want to know me—some person most imagine?
Well, give me facts about this person one tries to enforce—as evident in gait,
breath, human science, history of person, and color. I was lucid when I saw it.
She stood closer. I wonder if what she looks for is found in herself—that private
person, presumed as universal, driven into madness spheres, a projection that
all others share in this essence. Try to remember self, exposure, as it
requires life, if but to become some other person, more split, dealing with
halves. Do you want to know me? Look into self, those inner avenues, colored by
us—the you in me, the me in you.
