I am both the homeless man
who digs in the trash,
and the seagull who watches,
perched on the streetlight above.
I am both the tumbleweed
who wanders alone,
and the prickly cactus
who pretends not to notice.
I am both the passionate sweat
spraying from the musician,
and the longing saliva
of the cheering groupie.
I am both the lively cartoon,
happy to be an icon,
and its artist
who is harder to trace.
Who might you be
who dares to distinguish
a loved one from an aquaintance,
when not even a stranger is stranger?
