Your blue eyes
Like whirlpools
Drawing me in
Spiralling deep
Into your mind

Images flash by
A reel of film
Your memories
Your thoughts
Your dreams

I hear the crackle
Of audio sound
The broken voices
And the laughter
You’ve heard

I look for me
In your filmstrip
I need to know
What you think
What you dream

I see the darkness
And blurry visions
But my face
Imprinted clearly
Is visibly alive

My lip-gloss smile
Lined blue eyes
Glossy dark hair
Surrounded by
Smudges of confusion

A hazy mist
Of doubt, uncertainty
I reach out
To touch the image
To clear my misty aura

But only you
Can be director
Write the script
And produce
The meaning of me