Exit Movement

Something’s moving in the dark
Inside you. It’s not not you,
But it’s not you. It’s something

Someone said, all the somethings
That remain of all the things
All the someones said you’ve read.

The voice is yours. The words aren’t.
The patterns of the words aren’t.
You’re an actor in your head.

But then, the voice isn’t heard.
Even the gestures aren’t seen.
They’re felt sense something’s moving,

Inside you in the dark, old
Language, old essays, old poems,
Phrases out of news and shows.

You sense all of it choosing
How to evaluate you,
Palpating gently, moving,

The familiar alien
Of other people’s thinking,
Better voices, better souls,

Bitter angels whispering,
Those ancients you’ve never met,
Those moderns you’ve never yet,

The spores of their infections
Swirling in you, in the dark,
Prodding you for an exit.