Dearest,
Remember the four times I have come in close contact, each time having an abiding relationship with you? First at the house where I allowed the impressions to infuse with my image -- I allowed you to be surrounded by film posters, and ornamented you with stickers and cheap one-liners -- quite a juvenile I was, wanting to be what others would like to see. That was the time I did not even care to linger the extra minute at you, I just saw a person there, smiling, busy, outgoing, practically problem-free. I took you for granted, knowing you would show me all I wanted to see. Sorry, the dust began gathering then, I know. And off I went.
I then met a different you, showing a different me. A me I could not recognize, but could identify; someone with whom I could not identify with. There were things you reflected about me then -- dutifully beautifully groomed, tolerant and bored. I stuck on you couple of quotes then, doodled some faces for further dimension and let the dust grow. And then I left you.
To get a slab of you on a pillar which exhibited determination and belief. You stood by me, new -- unpolished and edgy but showing a very untarnished image. Your newness enamored me with one. I would die to meet you amidst clouds of confusion and become someone different enough to please you. But I knew you were reflecting someone only to appease me. I abandoned you too.
And returned to the first mirror. Only to realize before searching for someone there, how dirty, dusty and scratchy you looked. As if you have had several histories. I replaced you. We share those histories and have risen still. What comes through is a clean, polished, slightly diffident but severely aware me. You aren't silver, but very exact. I love it how you deem me important now, to appear nice but accept my un-niceties. Today, in you I see a multitude of images of emotions, and each of which I understand. You externalize my deepest core.
I kept coming back to you each time, for surety, in spite of all the truths you hurt me with. Do you see me or show me?
I give you all of me, "Just as it is, unmisted by love or dislike",
K.
I then met a different you, showing a different me. A me I could not recognize, but could identify; someone with whom I could not identify with. There were things you reflected about me then -- dutifully beautifully groomed, tolerant and bored. I stuck on you couple of quotes then, doodled some faces for further dimension and let the dust grow. And then I left you.
To get a slab of you on a pillar which exhibited determination and belief. You stood by me, new -- unpolished and edgy but showing a very untarnished image. Your newness enamored me with one. I would die to meet you amidst clouds of confusion and become someone different enough to please you. But I knew you were reflecting someone only to appease me. I abandoned you too.
And returned to the first mirror. Only to realize before searching for someone there, how dirty, dusty and scratchy you looked. As if you have had several histories. I replaced you. We share those histories and have risen still. What comes through is a clean, polished, slightly diffident but severely aware me. You aren't silver, but very exact. I love it how you deem me important now, to appear nice but accept my un-niceties. Today, in you I see a multitude of images of emotions, and each of which I understand. You externalize my deepest core.
I kept coming back to you each time, for surety, in spite of all the truths you hurt me with. Do you see me or show me?
I give you all of me, "Just as it is, unmisted by love or dislike",
K.
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