Myself, Two

I see you sitting at the sidewalk’s edge

Hungry, hand unfolded — stretched out

Through the thick, slippery ice I dredge

I kneel close to need not to shout

When I go to speak I find myself mute

And in my mind I begin to refute —

I jingle my pockets for my last bit of change and find coins: only two

One I hide beneath my coat

The other I give to you

I look you in the eyes and I see,

so, quickly I look away

I feel the burning in your hand where the coin is now to lay

Flinching away and hiding discovery I walk swiftly on

Your coin still burning in my hand makes me shuffle like a con

Deeper it seeps

Hotter it burns

It’s melted through my skin

Turned around

I walk towards you

Mind as hollow as tin

“Hello, excuse me, I must interrupt, I believe something is wrong”

You pat the ground beside you. I sit. I know that I belong

You hold out your hand as I’m holding out mine

and the coin, no doubt, has burned through

I look to your eyes and I know myself

For you are myself, too

Startled again I get up to run

Past inclination now as fact

I think nothing present but sensory thought;

the snow beneath my feet: packed

—She runs and runs

Walks and walks

Trips, falls, and lands—

I find myself sitting on that same sidewalk

I look up

to you who now stands