There is more nothing here. See,
I can cup hands full of water.
It stays here for a while--
...

I release chemicals when you smile.

They pool up
Like you stayed for a while.

Like floods of the Nile.

Ribbons of silver ride these navy nights
Winds of change
Pangs-- blues knocked across my guitar
I collide with crooked fate
And truths hard becoming

My mind paints silver streaks in the slats of rain.
You hold onto my wretched hand
While a beast searches me
For sympathy, climbing out of the puddle below.

"There is more nothing here," he says
And his impossible figure perplexed my mind,
Standing there.
"No," I said, "There is more nothing here"
And impaled him with several silver ribbons.

The sun breaks.

Tendrils of smoke
Find my nostrils
Which themselves,
Are just tendrils of smoke
My mind
Wraps around itself--
Itself,
Just tendrils of smoke.