The Void
An emptiness so empty it contains
Almost nothing, emptier than outer
Space, lives inside me now. It makes blank stains
On blanknesses. It is like a doubter
In heaven’s streets, a vacuum that blots
Out color. Atoms, clear not white, send smells,
Transparent nothingness akin to thoughts
In Buddha’s mind where numb Nirvana swells
Replaces everything that once was me
And you. There is no sound, for sound would need
A medium to travel through. The key
Here is an atheism with no creed.
..This means it cannot find a chord. No taste
….Exists here. Hands can’t touch your absent waist.