there’s a person who has been trying
to get a good look at themselves
for a long time now
years, maybe
long enough that the trying
has started to feel like a personality
long enough that they’ve forgotten
there was ever a morning
before the search began
they’ve stood very still
they’ve moved fast
they’ve read the reports
gathered the accounts
of everyone who’s ever seen them
from the outside
and the person in the reports
is never quite the one
doing the reading
they’ve sat across from people
who held up mirrors
and looked very carefully
at what the mirrors said
and thought
maybe that’s it
maybe that’s the one
and then driven home alone
not quite convinced
there’s a moment sometimes
when someone sees water
and for a breath
there’s just the water
the seeing hasn’t split yet
into the one who sees
and the thing being seen
it’s always already over
by the time you notice it
and you’re back to two things again
you, and the water
the searcher and the searched-for
the report and the one doing the reading
you’ve seen yourself in other people
in the ones who moved you
before you decided what to call it
in the ones who made something in your chest
go very still
that stillness was you
not the you in the reports
not the you being improved or explained
or cross-referenced against
what everyone else has seen
just you
already there
in the going still
you’ve been everywhere you’ve ever looked
the whole time
because the one doing the looking
was never separate from the thing it was looking for
all those years of searching
weren’t wrong exactly
there was just never a version of you
standing far enough away
to find
—lyra moon (you were already there)
september 13, 2026