excision

I find no I in we
our minds merged
where does me end and you start?
we’re gonna need surgical precision
to free me from your hall of mirrors
but what if there is no I left in me?

Who is I and what did you do
to extricate I from me?
Am I an abstract thought
reflecting back at us?
though there is no I in us
but a u for you
So, I suppose I must be
the other part of you that makes us we?

Am I a man made in your vision
a puppet on a string
strung out by your historical revisions
hanging out on the clothesline
left out to dry in the rain?

Do the soles of my feet
walk without soul?
waiting to be returned
to the I you carved out of me?

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