Le faux miroir, The False Mirror, 1928 by Rene Magritte

I
I am
I am the Deep
Surrounded and swimming
in the black expanse
The passage from the outside of me to within

I
I am
in search of the beginning of me
this thing that I am and all that I am not
And while there can be no sound in this vacuum
there is the colour of sound and all of its trembling

I am not
Something scratches and scapes
at the surface of the deep
It allows a small space to open
and from this space—
the sound of my chest breaking

Whatever I am
convulses through the crevice
wave after wave I am emptied
I have no eyes
I have tiredness and soft tissue
swelling and a pulse

The face of me is not
The tears of me
are underneath my skin
collected and drying
making salt lakes
in the ageing of myself

We walk our bodies
away from the place
of our meeting
I hold my head to the side
to rest my mind on you
for just a little while longer

I
I am
I am a girl with insect legs
in my throat
Flickering
yellow-winged grasshoppers

Here I am
Around me there is bee-sound—
insects dancing amid the wattle
wings throbbing and purring mid-flight
And then—rain!

I am
under it and in it
smiling
There is just rain
and running
and a moment in time

I breathe
and roll and arch my neck
feeling the awake-grass
and the awake-sky
my palms itch with the feint
and forgotten footprints of dragonflies

I
I am
within you
and of you
a universe
I am alive