CALL ME BELOVED

Was it eight years ago
when you understood that you knew me
better than I knew myself –

like looking through a drinking glass,
choosing to ignore the refraction;
my exterior was just a false reflection
of myself.

Late at night I worry, while
listening to the rain
spill out of the gutter.

I worry – do you introduce me daily
to this man that I don’t know,
the one that I’m becoming?

Do you still peer right through me?
Is that a stranger next to your head,
sunk into my pillow?

2015 Poem-A-Week 04: January 22 – January 28