I cannot fathom the man;
no way to creep inside skin and hormones
in order to sense pride or longing,
nor to perceive cultural differences
save observation; no first-person proficiency
for priorities, dreams, visions.
Can one ever truly know another?
Meanwhile inside my own head swim memories
tinged through the lens of confusion, emotion.
Many such thoughts pass unaware in a lifetime,
while deductions and judgments rack up points
for and against behaviors and inclinations.
Am I being fair, or simply reactive?
Life is solitary; still I long for connection
of the deepest content and nuance.
art: AW Sprague II