I am you

                                    

                                          
Just another quiet night.
Word count: 567
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Where the sky usually gleams with clouds stands the morning's astral glory. It's bright, so bright and warm. 
"Beautiful," it says. From behind, you approach and study the entity before you. It doesn't look human. It's amorphous, without shape or colour. It's like watching space, an empty spot, manifested in reality. Something is there, bending space and living through time, but there is nothing more to describe.
Who are you? you ask.
The entity turns. There's no face to see, only two eyes, glowing sockets, looking at you. Analyzing you.
"Who am I?" it repeats. "I am you."
The answer is mysterious and confusing. You look at yourself, your hands and fingers. You flex and extend the digits, watching tendons move under your skin. You see veins extending like wires, a network, working through your hand down your arm. You return to the entity.
You have no hands, you say. You are not like me.
"You are correct."
Then you are wrong.
"Look again," it says. You return to your body. Your skin sparkles in the sunlight, your hairs bristle in the wind, and your muscles move and wave with each twist of your legs. Your toes curl, relax and curl again, feeling each blade of grass between them.
I also have legs and feet to walk with, you add. You do not. You are not like me.
"You are correct," it says again.
Then you are wrong.
"Look again." Now you are annoyed on top of your earlier confusion. What are you looking for? You breathe in deeply and exhale until your irritation goes away. What else is there to see? Your chest, rises and falls, steadily breathing; your heart pumps, pushing blood through your arteries, feeding every organ inside you.
I do not understand. You frown. You say I am correct. What must I look for?
"Me."
But who are you? Your frustration builds again. How do I look for what I do not know?
"You know me," it says. "You know me inside out."
What?
The entity approaches you. You see the space around it distorting as it moves. It stops, and you feel a presence. You sense something reaching out to you. It touches your chest. Your heart pounds, beating wildly in your ears. It makes you uncomfortable like something hidden was unveiled. You step back and ask again.
Who are you?
It pauses and takes a familiar shape. You gasp. Before you stands a being with hands and feet, a face with expressions to see and a chest with a breath to give. Its fingers graze upon your skin, warm and inviting, comforting.
"Who am I?" it says. "I am you; the deepest part of you, a part of you, existing in space, affected by nature and all its forces. A part of you that moves with time, always looking at the past, struggling to live in the present all while running into the future."
You raise your hand and touch its fingers. The warmth is pleasant. You lace your fingers together.
You are me? you ask, still uncertain. The figure nods and opens its eyes. Deep behind them, a reflection shines. You see glass and squint. There's more behind it. So much. It's overwhelming. You are breathless.
That is you?
"It is us." A faint smile. "You and I."
It is incredible.
"And so are you."
You smile.
Yes. We are.