The Wire Man

I am naught but wire
Wrapping a steel skeleton
On top of which rests
A pattern of thoughts

Aye, said I
While I am flesh and blood
My presence amounts
To thoughts and dreams, emotions and drives

Some I act out
Some I hide
Some remain hidden from me
Becoming action, nonetheless

Aye, said It
We both identify with “I”
But what “I” is there?
The one I say, or the one which acts?

Aye, agreed I
And are you any more an automaton
Than I?
Aye, sighed It

We watched, in silence, the snowflakes
Flutter in the street light
Each wondering if the other
Found solace in the beauty

For that is the nature
Of consciousness
To always wonder
If it is, ultimately, alone