Mirror

At first seeing you was - buried.
Behind layers and layers
Of protecting my energy.

We meet in our costumes;
Our external projections.
Our manners -
Our ego barriers -
Our energetic curtains.

A light blue sweater
Against the concrete and neutrals.
Bright earrings -
A pop of colour above the fumes.

And then -
The eye gazing.
I thought - I felt
I may have glimpsed into your soul.

“Frantic intensity”
I said.
Like a swirling storm 
Underneath the sky-blue cashmere surface.
I don’t even remember the hue of your eyes.

I saw chaos,
And flow.

I felt you
Reflecting 
Into me
The contents of my own eyes.

Do we turn the other
Into a mirror of ourselves?
Projections
Of what we want to see?

But then our whole world - 
All things we perceive;
The person across our field of vision,
The tone of reality unfolding -
Are those mere reflections
Of our current state of mind?

I recognized chaos.
The spice that makes things
More interesting 
More colourful
More intense.

Intensity - 
Where the limits are tested.
An exploration of
How much the psyche,
And the energetic body 
Can be pushed - 
And pulled 
Apart 
Before
It snaps.

Sometimes -
Most of the time -
All of the time -
It’s for creation.
The mission of feeling as alive
As I can bear to feel alive.

Frantic intensity.

Maybe what I saw in you 
Was what looking at you 
Made me see in me.

And what I wanted to see in you.

Isn't that how mirrors work?