free verse, independent, literature, poetry, Uncategorized

Between Galaxies

Nothing.

Frozen dry

Abyssal vacuum.

Lightless maw.

Neither here nor

Anywhere.

I feel nothing.

Not joy, hate, arousal, jealousy, lust.

A husk that seems passable

Until you pick it up and realize it’s hollow

And the insides have all rotted away.

If there is anything living left

It sleeps in narcosis,

A secret shifting behind plastic eyes,

Stuck somewhere in that empty space

Between Galaxies.

Jack Blare, 2016

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