I came across a stranger today,
We stand face to face,
Everything I see in him,
It all feels just like me.
Who are you,
That I face staring at me,
The one that's a spitting image of me,
His questions, that look through me.
I am an act, a pretense, an image of my thoughts,
A layer of many colorful masks,
That masks my colorless truth.
Yet, it holds itself,
From smiling back at me.
But, he is a liar,
I can see it in the air between us,
That smile on his dry whispering lips;
That pain in the recess of his eyes.
The truth that I can't hide.
My image makes me a shadow,
The dark silhouette of my joy,
The watercolored book of dreams,
That dissolves as my eyes meet mine.
The silver smooth surface,
Holds a rough soul in pain,
The man in the mirror,
Happy eyes drenched in rain.
We both lower our eyes,
I for the truth that burns,
Him for the sorrow of being mine,
In silence, we hold an infinite moment.
Then we slowly raise our souls,
Our eyes meet, we laugh aloud,
We accept our individual realities,
He smiles at my illusion,
I laugh at his perception.
We are old friends, that we are,
We forget, forgive and grieve alike,
Yet, within this infinity, we shall never meet.
He is me, from another world.