When I see you,
I see nothing.
Not the stars,
neither the moon.
Are there clouds?
Any blue?
I can hardly say.
You're made of nothingness,
in my head.
Just a huge hollow void
of absolute emptiness.
In person, you were pretty.
But I do not remember,
neither the skin
nor the words,
but I do remember
calling you beautiful,
in my head.
In my head, though
you're more beautiful,
the sheer nothingness.
All over me like
a starless sky
on a drunken night,
when the woods stumble,
and the chair can't hold still.
All over my floor,
like crumbled pieces
of blank pages,
that scream dead poems.
You remind me of a diary,
that stinks in my closet.
so beautiful,
I was afraid to touch.
I never scribbled a word,
not even a smudge of ink,
untouched and flawless
and pointless.
In person, you aren't
that beautiful.
I do not want to touch you,
so maybe
I'll leave us undone,
because if I don't,
I'll lose the nothingness in you,
in my head
I'll have a face and a voice,
an image, a lady,
and maybe love
but mortality.
-RYS
