There Is
there is a window by my window
where i see nothing but other windows
and i know, there is nothing really to see
but the blue crisp sky
in the dewey morning.
we are all looking at the same thing.
where does the light begin, where does it end?
where does the sky begin?
where does the regular atmosphere end and the sky begin?
where is the point where you can finally say,
i can fly?
does it make a difference to know
where the demarcation between things is?
where do i end and you begin?
at what point am i myself and when am i
a part of you?
where is the line between us?
i want to know that place
the place between things.
there is a song i sing when i don't know
where i am.
am i standing in the place without borders?
do our souls have a border?
is there somewhere that i actually end
or am i the whole world?
i feel like i am that velvety maroon reclining chair
by the window.
i feel like i am sitting on life.
we are all looking out some window
or another. looking at each other
as if we are not a part of the other.
we say, i am not you, i am not you
but what is me?
where is me, is me here or is me in my head?
am i a material thing, something made of dirt and water
and air? what is life but a chemical reaction?
what am i except a science experiment by the gods
that turned out to be what i call my life?
is this life something i own or does it own me?
why are there so many questions that have the same answer?
stop asking, you tell me, in the morning mist
while i try to make out your face in the fresh fog.
why can't i see you, really see you?
where did you go, are you even there?
is that a face i see or mask made of leftover dreams?
the paint on your face is flaking and i can see a little bit
underneath the colors you try to wear over
your unwashed skin. it's ok to look bad in the mornings,
when you are barely conscious and forget your own name.
do you wish you could have named yourself?
what would you call you? what would you look like
if you could choose a face? how is it that everyone has a different
face when we are all made of the same substances?
why do i even think i'm me? i am someone between you and me.
i am both of us and neither of us at the same time.
i am the sky. i am your mirror. look at me when you really
want to see who you are. we are not so different, the two of us.
we are haunting each other in the same dream.
none of this is real. it is all your imagination.
there isn't.
nina