empty full
-
Sometimes I see myself as an empty room,
white walls and floor.
A nothing space , a no-time place.
Open the door and fill me full ,
begin again, start anew
and make me soak up your passions
while you dilute my insecurities until
they are watered away
in laughter and loving and my dreams
are mixed up with your own.
So that fingertips continue to fingertips
and edges blur into one.
.
If I could fill you completely,
your walls my host,
our boundary would likewise replete me
like Whiteread’s Ghost.
White walls and floor are, indeed, a nothing space. And yet I know of no space so eloquent or evocative.
Would that I could be an empty room.