you imagine
you are your
mind to the
end
but the signs are
troubling.
your thoughts have
holes in them & your
memory can’t be
found.
the who you
were is
lost.
so you arrive
at the tabula
rasa––
the nobody of
creation.
take time.
be patient
with your nowhere
self.
in the pit
of what is
human,
there are
many
dreams––
dwell among them
where you
wish
& somewhere
there is an
opening.
you
need never
return.