What if we got outside ourselves and there



really was an outside out there, not just



our insides turned inside out? What if there



really were a you beyond me, not just



the waves off my own fire, like those waves off



the backyard grill you can see the next yard through,



though not well -- just enough to know that off



to the right belongs to someone else, not you.



What if, when we said I love you, there were



a you to love as there is a yard beyond



to walk past the grill and get to? To endure



the endless walk through the self, knowing through a bond



that has no basis (for ourselves are all we know)



is altruism: not giving, but coming to know



someone is there through the wavy vision



of the self's heat, love become a decision.





