Who are you I do not seem to know
You who look straight blank at me.
I ask my ma and pa: who is this
I see night and day, summer winter shine or rain?
They say he is their one and only child.
I ask my clusters of friends: who is this
Talking firing every wicked pun?
They say he is their trusting confidant.
I ask my esteemed teacher: who is this
Engaged in Socratic dialogues like Rodin?
He says he is the seeker of the Forms.
Night falls and homeward I retreat.
There lies my love of whom I ask: who is this
That you kiss and stroke in the dead of night
And the life of day?
He says he is the lover ideal dream fulfilled.
Now you and I are face to face,
I ask: Who will you be if I strip
Off the veneer and the paint,
Leaving you naked as Day One?
image from yapattack.deviantart.com