Supposition
Suppose it’s true: that as you walk, another is walking within you, perfectly coterminous with your own walking. Suppose it’s true that as you sit, another sits within, weathering you, like the coal inside the ember. I don’t like to think that our bodies are mere vessels — or vassals — but suppose it’s true. It might explain these odd, apparently random urges to hold & be held, or to lose ourselves through concentration: the not-us within wants to reach the not-us without. It might explain why, as we slowly tighten around our cores, strands of white begin to appear on our heads, an extra light glimmers behind the eyes, & a network of cracks under the skin begins to offer glimpses of an inner blue. Suppose it’s literally true that heaven is within. Would even this be as illuminating as the knowledge that we are risen from the ocean, descended from the trees?
Ending re-written 8/8/13. For the original poem, listen to the recording in the following post, Doubletake. In response to a Read Write Poem challenge to make use of repetition. Other responses are linked here.