You don’t know me.
You never did.
The only reason you recognize my name,
Is because it was spoken aloud in your presence,
Nearly every day for months at a time.
Ingrained in your memory,
Years, decades even, ago.
It’s the same for me.
And undoubtedly the same for all of us in that room.

Now here you are,
Crossing the divide from your realm to mine.
Where did you come from?
Or were you always here from the beginning,
Hidden behind a shroud erected by my own ignorance?
If I’d spoken to you then,
Would I be surprised to see you now?