My brain is missing a lobe so I can’t
talk to myself like I used to
talk to myself like I used to
instead I stare into the lake of myself
bending down and down to touch nose
bending down and down to touch nose
to nose to nose
there are fish beyond my parroting lips
there are fish beyond my parroting lips
I watch them dispassionate and wonder
what they make of me
what they make of me
what they think of the other me
my two half-lives above and below the vault
my two half-lives above and below the vault
there is no bridge between these worlds
the two halves of me separate like eggs
the two halves of me separate like eggs