There is a subtle emptiness
Placing a shutter, blankest white
Before the dripping ink of night
Cupped in the brown they call my eyes.
The pounding of a silent voice
Upon the bottom of my mind.
A wordless tremble in my hands,
Some concrete in my smile.
Oh well, I murmured to the voice,
What matter if I don’t rejoice?
A passing whim, a selfish choice,
Then I’ll be fine tomorrow.
The giants, oh! They raise their arms,
Pulling the membrane off the moon,
Unveiling core of blinding light,
A blossom of sundews.
My giant! Love! A chandelier,
Glaring upon my feverish skull,
Your smile of stone and eyes of ink,
Thee is a subtle emptiness,
My dear, you truly make me sick,
Both arrogance and self-hatred,
An inner eye that never blinks,
That never looks outside yourself.
Sep 12, 2025
Sep 12, 2025 at 5:48 AM UTC
There is a subtle emptiness
Placing a shutter, blankest white
Before the dripping ink of night
Cupped in the brown they call my eyes.
The pounding of a silent voice
Upon the bottom of my mind.
A wordless tremble in my hands,
Some concrete in my smile.
Oh well, I murmured to the voice,
What matter if I don’t rejoice?
A passing whim, a selfish choice,
Then I’ll be fine tomorrow.
The giants, oh! They raise their arms,
Pulling the membrane off the moon,
Unveiling core of blinding light,
A blossom of sundews.
My giant! Love! A chandelier,
Glaring upon my feverish skull,
Your smile of stone and eyes of ink,
Thee is a subtle emptiness,
My dear, you truly make me sick,
Both arrogance and self-hatred,
An inner eye that never blinks,
That never looks outside yourself.
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