It�s not me, it�s you.
And it�s not the way it should be.
When black and blue
At least I knew the difference,
At least I thought that maybe
Perhaps, maybe, perhaps�
It�s not you, it�s me,
So sullenly withdrew my application
And all the more entranced by duplication
Of equations solved and folded up,
Soldered and seamless
Like dreamless sleep.
Once it was easy to place
The absence in the already there,
See the hole by virtue of the tear�
But really, it�s magical, this dissolution,
Nothing left around the rim or in the depths,
Alienation without persecution
And
Just
Emptiness.
Copyright 2000