If I am a lighthouse,
Are you the storm or the sea?
Are we two constants, you and me?:
One tall tower of light shining
And one deep swell
Moving moving against me.
Or are we two separate, one from the other?:
You a passing frenzy, a stacatto dance
And me that same tall tower of shining light.

Or am I the tower, tall and empty,
White and charming to photograph,
My face turned upwards to the sea;

While you are the pillar of light that is in me
That comes vaguely and brightly
To light up the sea upon which
I turn my wide eyes?

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