I know you;
I recognize the sorrow in your eyes.
These roots run deep;
They are the calluses of the world.
You come from the center
At the heart of time; you are proud,
And trusting, wounded and bleeding,
And your shame drags you down
Like a lead weight into the
Darkest regions of your mind.
I have seen your daughter; I believe
She has your mother's eyes.
She is the brightest jewel you
Cannot touch, and you are wading
Water until it is time.
I think I will call you Narcissus,
And pluck that flower and
Place it between the pages
Of a treasured book, the one
Celebrating the life of the Poet
Who no one loved until he died.
I know you are hiding from the
Gaze of the Gorgon's eyes, with
Arrow notched and bow drawn,
With the intention of slaying
Her before you turn to stone.
I know you walk the dark woods
Where there is no path,
Insistent on making your own.
Here, I drop a pebble and watch
Your face ripple until it comes
Smooth again.
The calm, black water frames
Your haggard face and masks
Its hidden depths.
Behind your face there is
Darkness looking inward
Like a collapsing star.
Your mouth moves like mine
But it does not speak; it betrays
The artist you think you are.
Just one thing before I
Let you reclaim the depths in
Which you swim.
I have denied knowing you
Three times already, and told
I look a lot like you I have sworn
"I am not him."