Still, in the emptiness between voids.
Searching, I am all out of finding.
Lost? I only wonder
What is to loss, or find.
Soft, in the fullness between void,
I walk between twin mysteries:
life and death, both Being.
Unbeing, the non, lies about me
(lies to me) terrible in its quiet.
Invisible, I only see it
When the lights of cities burn low.
Monologue
Having something to say
is not finding the words
with which to say it.
The line between wanting and needing
is a reed striving
to bend. I said
I would not forget, but
have forgot why I said that.
I need what I cannot give -
Forgiveness.
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