You Are a Mystery to Me

 

28 September 2005

 

 

 

 

 

You are a mystery to me.

So many layers, so many fathoms.

Sometimes so distance,

yet so appealingly near.

 

Sometimes you drop the veil

and show me the bottom.

Other times, you present nothing

below the surface.

 

I wonder?

Are you a mystery to yourself?

All those feelings,

thoughts,

swirling about,

no longer anchored.

 

Why do you hide?

What are you afraid to show?

What are you afraid for me to know?

What are you afraid for yourself to know?

Are you trying to find a new center?

a new place to call your own?

 

I stick my finger in and taste you,

I close my eyes and smell you,

but these do not help.

You are like some distant planet,

which does not want to give up her secrets,

but on a clear “night” and with the most powerful vision,

I can see hints, bits, and pieces.

 

Like the layers of an archeological dig,

I sweep away one layer only to find another,

older,

richer,

more complex, and yet

I am left with more guesswork,

than facts.

 

You are a mystery to me.

 

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