An Ever-Unusual Game
(for Alan Watts)
I am what I am,
I am what I do,
And I can be what I am
Because I’m not You.

I am what I think,
I am what I feel,
I’m what I remember,
But am I real?

Some of I Is, 
Some of I’s Not,
And I could not remember
If I never forgot.

You are what You are,
What else could You be?
You are what You do,
You’re You and not me.

You are what You think,
You are what You feel,
And what You remember,
But are You real?

Some of You Is,
Some of You’s not,
And you could not remember
If You never forgot.

But If I don’t know I 
Unless I know You,
And we both feel like I,
What the hell do we do?

If not for You I never was born,
And if not for I You neither—
If not for the both of You and I,
Nothing exists that is either.

If I do something to I,
Or if You do something to You,
Both You and I will find that we
Both do it to I and You.

And if You do something to I,
Or if I do something to You,
Both You and I will still find that we,
Both do it to I and You.

So if all that we do affects I and You,
Then are we different or are we the same?
Or just two-sided parts in a whole of no parts,
In an ever-unusual game?

-Saint Andrew of Snohomish