There is no I in you, yet you is in I.
Simple vocabulary tells this is beyond bounds.
How you can be in I, yet I is not in you.
My beauty, my soul
my exceptional smile.
All of this is missing from you,
but in I there are pieces of you.
Here and there.
Embedded in my I
shards of you
way down...in
my origin
my being
the I that is my entity.
There is you,
you of which I cannot rid,
of which I is not mine
but of you...
In the I of this beholder you trespass,
You stay, you invade, yet you leave no tracks.
Your you floats continuously through.
I is not in you, yet you lay still
lay quiet,
lay dormant,
in the I, where there's no room for mine.
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