the hypothetical other

Photo by Sonny Sixteen on Pexels

some days I stare too long
into the lake…
I worry I love myself more
than anyone else does…
but is that much of a problem
to even have? maybe…
but the edge of solipsism
is an electric place
it lights up the eyes
and brings tingles to the toes
you have to be interested
in yourself first and foremost
before anyone else
can delight in your madness…
other people are just mirrors anyway,
reflecting back attitudes, opinions,
dirt and dread, mostly all the stuff
that’s already there inside you
they dredge it up — you want
to remember who you are?
have an argument with someone,
a late night conversation,
a tear-soaked heart to heart,
a drunken debate…
there is no empty abyss
only crowds
oceans
swamps
star systems
of other people
all sorts of characters
with limitless vagaries
ready and willing
to help you find your way
back to your self
you can be a master
of self perception,
a maven of first-person
observation
but nothing beats
the insight of a stranger,
a lover
an enemy
a mother
a priest
the dead
the hypothetical other