Fingers rest upon crystalline glass and in their image is reflected an
equal counterpart. Only heat, radiating from a single point, separates
the two planes of creation. On one side, I. On the other, me.
I am the knower and the creator of my ever changing thoughts. A
single breath is the orchestration of I, myself, and the act to move
forward, push, bend, laugh, rethink is all the doing of I.
Me is the devil who spins conditions for the I. I am not anything without
me, and me means nothing without I. Me opens a page of the past and
tells I what can and cannot be though, based on what is written down
on that unholy page of mine own history.
Who do we see when we look in the mirror? Me or I? Two planes of
existence, separated in equal duality by the body of self and the
promise that both will be recognized for its admirable service to the
mind, the soul, the body.
For we are simply skins which rest upon the hum of our own spirit and
ambitious mind. I and me inhabit the same tangible being without
making way for the other. Simple gestures of propriety and grace are
not considered when fighting for center stage of the mind. Will I or me
be the forefront on my mind this day?
Several Sunny Days 