She sees a reflection
in a blank wall.
She feels a memory
through the touch of her toes
to the carpet.
A blank wall of nothing
is showing
a flurry of somethings.
For not even a wall can be blank.
Every nick to the surface,
every dried paint bubble,
every scar on the wall
tells a story.
That is why she sees
herself reflected
in the wall.
Because nothing is blank.
Everything that seems like nothing
is something.
Every person who seems blank
is filled
with life.