Seeing myself, I look at me, but I’m you
But who are you now that you’re me split in two?
Two of me how could it be he?
only myself we see facing me
this distance warps along the way
running on telephone lines
my body sticks, my skin unwinds
get on to feet, stomach your guilt
go to the street, on the road I built
look you in the eyes
whispering, “why?”
he fights like spinning tops
that broken tree in a sleeping hour
splinters and splits become a flower
nod my head while it clickety-clacks
bounce the ball, pick up the jacks
stumbled words
I can’t look away
reality brought into being
strange things I am seeing
The same mind operating in different locations
It was just him...