Within me, she who doubts meets
the one who remembers before questions arise.
One touches the edges of the unknown,
the other stands at its center.
Within me, she who withdraws whispers
and she who remains, even when everything softens.
Their dialogue is not made of words,
but of a vibration recognized in silence.
There is she who searches for a sign
and she who is the sign.
One looks outward,
the other remembers the inner light.
I do not separate them.
I do not correct the flow.
I allow the layers of me
to align on their own.
And in that quiet meeting,
the dialogue dissolves.
No voice remains.
What remains is presence,
knowing itself without a name.