The Other Half.
by Donna Kane

Inside this house our bodies meet
like two stones tumbling towards an end
one might call beauty,
pressing shapes into each other,
wearing away our edges so
when we lie in stillness
we fit together
not twins but opposite halves.
A history can be told by this,
how one's presence fills an absence
in the other
or
it's the harder edge
that insists its weight be held.
Inside our selves, a world shifts,
the light falls nearer or farther,
shadows deepen or disappear
depending on the shape
our bodies make between us.