i can’t help it
always being in two
split like this
yolk and white spilt from the shell
just like we started
when we spilled out
falling into some stranger’s hands
no, we can’t return
into the yolk and white of the one shell
can no longer turn
into one
like that wide spread
never happened
like humpty dumpty
never had that great fall
i can’t
help it
being so self-ish
i
write poems so aware of that word
i
.
but it’s not just i
it’s you
my yolk
over there
rising over that land
or on the other side
sinking
over that continuous land
before or after
sometimes now
i hope, now
it happens that way
that is, always
that is, two.
