where is the “you”

there’s so much “me” in this head
so much “i know” and “you don’t” –
this gestalt, this entity they call “i”
is full up, like a closet whose owner refuses
to take those old rags to the sally ann.

where is the “you”?
where is “would you like?” not “but you should”
where is the soft “you”, the other, the “thou”,
the curious, loving, patient, warm gaze
that longs to rest on the richness
of more-than-i …

right here. no need to wait.
i’ll just open my heart.

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