Is it a distant part in which I live?
Distant, though
Not extant,
But in the labyrinth of
Distant, extant
Feelings.
Is it that distant part that thrives
Within the distant parts of
My own being?

Or is it a distant part that exists
In the very near
And very close
And inseparable
Part of me
That is unknown to me.

Could I be living in
Myself?
All that lies in the farthest
Reaches of my being
Can be reached
Only by my self,
And exists only
Through my experience of it.

Through my experience
Anything can exist,
Anything can be
And everything in
My experience is.

I live through my distant parts,
The distant memories,
The distant hopes,
The distant fears,
The distant facts:
Too distant to be now realized,
Though facts they remain.

Those distant parts,
My memories,
Are as distant as tomorrow,
But as close as now.
Through and with and in
Them I live.

Through and with and in
Them I experience,
And thereby add
To them.

Through and with and in
Them I am,
For I am through and with
And in them.
And I am them.