If You Were Me and I Were You

Thinking in patterns different than
Those cross winding lines of mine
And swirling curvatures
Speaking in tones altogether unspun
As singing a song
Without knowing the words
Calming stressed nerves through means
Subject to doubt
Coveting old ways
Knowing the methods without a
Befriending of the whys
Seeing before me all beauty
Peering back from glass
Even, steady eyes
If you were me and I were you.