Beautiful Nothings

A thorough fascination with the abstract

Leaves me yearning for the tangible,

Something more than just a lens flare.

I long to hold a sunset but I know

That the enormity of what that entails

Could crush me with its meaning.

I grasp at whispers of a daydream

That call my name in canon

As if my throat could summon forth

The words I’d need to speak the

Essence of those fragile lies.

If all I’d ever truly known to be

Were these beautiful neutrinos

These tiny, fleeting particles of

An aesthetic that I can’t describe

Then I would tirelessly search for

Meaning in those next-to-nothings

For those next-to-nothings would be

The only nothings that I knew truly.


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