who are you?

who are you?
 
i wonder
sometimes
 
standing before my mirror
young and beautiful
more than anyone
i’ve known
collecting your hair
in a sultry satiny way
as i stand behind you and
watch
 
sitting on the corner
of my bed
lost in your
make believe world
a pen in those
potter hands
and eyes deeply lost
in the lands
etched farther than
any horizon can
see
 
telling me those dark
twisted fantasies
of all your years of existence
as i listen to
the voice behind those
words being
spoken
 
who are you?
 
i wonder
sometimes
 
when i get lost
in your deep blue eyes
it’s a long road back
and back to where?
 
i think
i don’t need to know
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