traveling stranger

he turns to me with a face full of fatigue
thick brown hair is swept across his forehead
"please miss," he asks, "just a cigarette"
he looks longingly at the smoke
spiraling upwards from my mouth
"i've been traveling for so long.
you see, this road i'm on, well,
it's never ending"
i place the rolled tobacco in his palm,
he nods, thanking me
"which road are you traveling on?"
i ask him, my voice soft, curious.
"it's this road i've been traveling on
since i was just a boy. since i've been
trying to find myself"
i strike a match and hold it up for him,
he inhales to light the cigarette,
then backs away taking a long drag.
"back then i thought it would only take
a couple days or a week,
but it turned out that the more i see,
the more i question, the more i'm unsure"
we both sat there, eyes on the horizon.
two star crossed strangers.
"but the more i think about it,
the closer my finish line draws"
he took a long drag on his cigarette
and released two perfect smoke rings.
"you find yourself in other people.
the things they do make you who you are.
you do not exist as one person.
you are everyone," he told me
"and everyone is you"