LACUNA

When I think 

back on all 

the objects 

I have worshiped—

many spheroid, 

others cylindrical,

all of them 

hollow now, black 

and white in 

the photo-

book of memory—

I experience not 

the loss 

of quintessence, 

but the paradox

of hope;

it might yet 

be possible—

for a substance, 

for a presence 

to represent 

its own total 

lack.