We go around
in neatly folded packages.
Work-shaped, mall-shaped, party-shaped.
Sufficiently malleable to fit into each slot.
Still wrapped when we get home.
Tightly taped and parent-shaped for the kids.
Ribbon-tied and bug eyed for the spouse.
But never unwrapped.
What if one string were slowly pulled from the top
To reveal what was inside?
‘No!’ we protest,
‘For that would destroy the package:
the multi-version of me that is my
(The ‘i’ in identity
is with a little ‘i’
for the little eye
does not want to have
the inner view).
Pull the string.
Because what you really are
is both inside and outside
of the parcel anyway.
Copyright Fizzy Wisdom 2018