A winsome youth, whose visage bore
A galaxy of pimples on the forehead,
Noticed a girl running ahead
While tramping up a country road.
She seemed to float afar to catch up
With her runaway cat or puppy.  He strode
As fast as the muscles of his legs allowed
The pursuit of a dream.  Her tousled hair
Tumbled around her shoulders.  When he reached
The field where she was coyly cuddling her pet,
He tugged the visor of his cap over the forehead and
Flung the scarf around his face to hide the pimples.
She knew him from the market, with his twin dimples
In a horizontal smile, an enigmatic ‘emoticon',
Perhaps to be unravelled in a shared lifetime. Perhaps.
Can we intuitively feel the emotions of other people,
Protagonists or dramatis personae,
Whom we know or meet in life or read about
In histories, biographies, fairy tales and fictional romance?
Like the tug a man may feel
When attracted by a face or form or grace in motion,
Such as a runner at the finish?
‘I' is the slimmest letter in the Latin script of English,
But how bloated with meaning it is!
"Cogito, ergo sum".
U-go, I-go, Ego.