an emptiness
in space,
so I
am mostly an emptiness
in feeling—
and no, the two
are not the same thing,
as that feeling
is what keeps me from
demolishing
the world.
*
Picture
your discretion
getting massacred
by gestures:
god begets
light
begets
reliance—or
suspicion.
*
Our lookalikes
are all defective,
but
don't say that out loud.
Would you settle instead
for a happiness
contingent?
Or vicarious?
Or how about
a "later"
encircling your "now"
with all the exactness
of an electron cloud?
