why this me? I asked myself one day.

why this particular – version?

having overheard the conversations of the wind,

read messages, secret –

shared only with the stars,

I thought I even understood the singing of the rain…

but what of that?

(to believe there is no other quite like you, would surely be considered ludicrous!)

try as I might – I just cannot understand, the reason for the sun.

regardless the thickness of the clouds,

the darkness from the storm,

it shines – consistent – unafraid…

truly nothing conceived within this mind, nor yours,

I presume, could ever comprehend. (the ebb and flow of (the tide) life).

enigmatic as light, to dark –

your insatiable attraction to yourself!

and I – hiding behind your mirror – remain all you can never see…

is your anything, really better,

than the everything of me?