Descend

At first, I was only half, the other half

as in a mirror’s reflection,

which always remains inside

a groping, a secret,

Yes, once I was half broken, half glittering,

constantly emerging from the alcove of self,

burning in water, drowning in fire,

and then I was half body, half breath

neither one nor the other,

a waterflame, someone on the edge.

I carried the self-image, left with me,

before I slipped into the darkness

in the years that splinter like sleep

entangled with the roots of nothingness.