when we meet...

Oh to meet our selves...

she belches-and i look away, embarrassed to have noticed such an open-private conversation. she's always been too busy to savor what was meant to taste.
i shudder for a second, realizing "she" is me. i prop my elbows on the table, dizzy from the understated truth. understanding i've got a lot more to learn about when to excuse oneself from airy dinnertime chatter.
i need to find my self a mirror.

she wonders alongside me. greets me at the looking glass. points to the blemishes i already know exist. i look away. and in her silent presence she guarantees me a slower transformation than i'm willing to accept. she shakes my hand in a promise that will be hard to shake away.
transformation fights a hard battle through and through.

i open a window, making it easier to breathe up the world. swallowing the sounds that orchistrate the the sea below. i wonder. and i look. and i think. about the world in my lungs and those below my feet. how do i forget myself?
i think of folks i love. and those yet to come.
i lock the shutters and leave the rain to do its job.

the places i find me.
on my knees scrubbing at the bathroom floor on a wonderfully sunny saturday morning.
full of wonder at the coolness of night on such a summery date on the back lawn, the scent of cut grass filling space between thoughts.
long runs. early in the morning, waking with the cooking fires to start the day off right.

in transition through our days-through our years-through our lives.
we wonder yet again.
and again.
and again.
back to our mirrors. back to our reflections. back to the whisper who waits to tell us who we are.

"oh hello, my name's beth. if i do recall, we met at dinner one night. you might not recognize me. it was quite a long while ago. i've lost some weight since then."
i've forgotten what you look you like
myself.