Emptiness gapping between the tiny bits,
The illusions of my solidity
Why, then, can I not flee
Through those spaces that make me?
Why are those gaps not door-
Or windows at least?
What traps me into this empty body-
What plugs the holes that make me-
Oh! How I long to sneak through
To climb out of myself, stand without the skin that blocks me from the else.
To feel without fingers
the texture of grass, to know it
unpercieved
By the taints if my foggy mind.
Oh, I would climb a tree and,
Not needing a place to rest my foot,
keep going
Up, up into the air, the sky.
I would fill there the emptiness, and
At once make dense.
The combination of me and it.
I would spread myself
everywhere and see without eyes appreciate
things a shape cannot
I would leave no footsteps
No trace of my emptiness
But, instead, oh, I would be.
I would be outside.
