"If you could have dinner with
anybody, living or dead, who would it be?"

Well, my guest of choice
Is neither alive nor dead.
He does not abide by earthly laws
and is not bound by physical form.

He shows up fashionably late;
at my front door stands an outline
resembling the shape of a man,
dressed fashionably in vanta black.

He is everything and nothing.
He speaks with deafening silence,
whispers in static and white noise.
Tonight I'm dining with "the man
who has all of the answers".

I've compiled a list of unsolved mysteries and universal unknowns.
Strings of words come together begging to know:
Just where did everything go wrong?

But the man with all of the answers--
The man entrusted with the universe's objective, un-biased truths--
The man hidden in vanta black,
first has a question for me.

That man who has all of my answers
has no interest in my casserole.
He instead eats up the shell of my soul
for when he asked me his question,
he realized there was one answer even he didn't know.

I wasn't expecting dinner
to remain at the table
untouched and cold.
"Who are you?" was the question
that swallowed me whole.