“the word is not the thing”
he said once again
and of course
i had to agree (at least
intellectually)
but what else do we have
at our disposal
to pierce the darkness inside
or soar across those
empty spaces
which yawn between you and i
except for a meager handful of sounds
too fragile or unsure
under the weight of feeling
with which we (occasionally) invest
in them and unable
to do the job well
despite such careful construction
and here i stand before you
cut to the quick
and so poorly equipped
yet again
without a single
ideal in mind
or anything worthy
of relaying
to you through time
with words divested
of all possible meaning
so let’s let this awkward silence
wrap us both in a warm
embrace and stretch
it out to infinity.
