are you there?
how i long to know what rests beneath
your salt and pepper hair.
that behind
those goofy spectacles,
those crinkled eyelids,
those faded irises,
is a vault –
a treasure trove of wisdom.
i have crossed the pacific ocean,
cruised through antarctic waters,
wearing your fingers
around my wrist.
and still,
i lack the tools
to decipher the riddle of your being.
you have built me a sanctuary –
but forgotten to leave the key
under the doormat.
so I wonder who you are.
i fear that your spectacles will shatter,
your eyelids will do what they are meant to-
to cover your irises,
let them
fade
and wither,
and die.
and still,
i will not know you.