TRYING TO KNOW, UNDERSTAND

Eyes,
not windows,
one-way mirrored glass,
out but not in,
leaving me
to guess at consciousness,
guess at thought,
guess at what might be
in others.
I try to stare in,
look at pupils,
hope to see
pink wrinkly ball,
or some essence
of think.
But blackness,
back of eye,
and I look in lips
and words
tongues, hands
nose twitches
eyebrow arches
trying to know,
understand,
what it is to be
other.
All others,
all else,
they're unknown other,
self-perceiving,
access-denied
conscious.
And I don't know them.
I don't know
what
two plus two
means to them,
what
two apples are
in their heads.
I can't see
what
grows in them,
sprouts in their minds
when they hear
"parent"
"man"
"love"
can't see
what they are,
how they believe.
I don't know them,
can't see in,
I
don't
know.