Here in the light
that forever fights the darkness,
we exist. Incomplete
nothing more than sentience yet
always there’s a surplus;
effervescence of neurological excess,
the contingent biological flesh
by the thoughts that haunt us
always finding ways to evade our gaze.
We call this thing our Self.
We can never own it, never know it,
or calmly asking
but we can find it,
in other eyes.