The day was young and bright when we first met,
She had stared at me,
appraising.
Her eyes had set.

I was an alien,
an invader.
She had to search my eyes,
to check that I, too, was ****-sapiens.

I thought she was done,
for she accepted me then.
But I was wrong.
She peeled at my layers like I was an onion,

discovering who I was. I hadn't known what I was concealing.
My life was a charade
till, like a lioness,
she had begun ripping, revealing.

I was no longer an alien,
She had heard my tale, both the sorrow and joy, and I hers.
Yet she searched my eyes again
and discovered that I, too, am ****-sapiens.