Only partly

It seems...
so therefore I don't know.
Shadowy, iffy, shrouded,
life presents itself,
only partly.

I can only guess,
at its true contours.
I can only stare into its infinite eyes,
knowingly lost.

Life is here and there,
everywhere and nowhere,
dressed up in drag,
but authentic in essence.

Hallucinating like this,
I dream through life and
dreams live through me,
hesitating to spring to remembrance
but living in the depths of my mind.

On the other hand,
life simply is,
regardless of my gaze.
But no one has ever seen her this way.

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