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