No-thing

misguided by the pieces, struck by awe

my perplexity explodes
in the face of time. ssssstop.

bits and pieces of what’s left of us
move in together to gather
the damns one gives for a dam which is about to crumble

our river flows slowly, it
throws rocks into our glass houses,
built over the years with so much care,
now I can see through it,
make sure it never breaks again.

nothing to see here
moving on moving on
passers-by pass by our broken link and drop off litter
which still glitters in your darkness,
ancient matters which don’t matter any longer
and everything would be perfectly fine
if you were not a single line
frightened by time’s enormity,
carrying my home and all there is to it
on your shoulders.

so, time.
time for wrapping it up and moving
time to spend cleaning the unwanted weed
that grew so close to your heart
over the years, while
no one gave a damn for your dam which was always about to crumble
and it never did.
and it never will
stop
playing.

“It is invisibility that forms the basis of interpersonal relationships – a basis which Laing (Scottish psychiatrist) calls ‘no-thing’. That which is really between cannot be named by any things that come between. The between is itself no-thing.” (Wolfgang Iser- “Interaction between Text and Reader”)