Excuse me! . . . Have we met before?
Oh I’ve worn so many faces.
None of them are true…
I've lived in so many places,
One or two of them have been with you.
In different eras, eons or circumstances,
More than that you don't need a cue.
The echoes of those lives are traces,
Memories . . . one of which is a clue…
That our eyes are ancient orbs in holding cases,
Testifying having seen as Peregrines flew.
Yet here we are with different faces,
Way-hey imagine that I know you.
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