Listening

drowning
decadent in the empty,
everything
grows
as you shrink.

nothing
enfolds you
recklessly.

nothing
teases blissful
future.

nothing
calls you to
the present.

nothing to do,
but be.

nothing,
but moon’s song
will enflame
your loins.

nothing,
but rhythm
will carry
you
home.

listen to the words
hidden in the quiet.

hear the magic
roiling in your chest.

nothing
will
take
you
here
in the
darkness,
and
nothing will
set
you
free.

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