nOTHING

around his eyes
shades of black
when it looks at
you it is looking at
nothing
there is no sign of
life in the iris
there is only the stillness
of solitude
there is no whirlpool
of happiness
nothing is taken
nothing is given
there is doubt around each eye
there is that state of
unsatisfied hunger
despite the mountains of food
and lakes of drinks
there is this hunger for hunger itself
a longing eternal
there is this lightness that floats
like a cloud
this unbreakability of a
situation
there is this murmur of the femur
the chant of the brunt
nothing is full
yet nothing is empty still

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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