garden/Poetry/At once.md

at once an empty reaches for infinite, a caress of unrealized potentialities. feeling - loosely leftward, rightward, and cock-eyed sideways - swelling cuts in my finger webbing, welling up in the world's sleeping. sacrificed hands embrace all the nothing, the nothing just beyond our reach.

time as a lake and its tide, the ebbing and flowing sea of forevers. space as a mountain of insurmountable disappointment and nausea. atoms speak their insolent peace to distance, radiation sucks away inadequacy, and helplessness gushes from fibrous nothing.

i haven't engineered enough contentment to bear the weightlessness, the chaos of these scattered moments. should you look at my crawling empty, the folded-in pieces and holes - which know no other destiny than to settle - i beg you not to reach for stardust or finer fabrics of space-time, but choose such to love an empty.