be less sure
of the emptiness
upon which sit
the cities of your pain

a great yawning
a centerless plane

be less sure now
of this filtering light
and the pebbles it lands
between

you spread your fingers
and what you lost is not
less yours because it is now
elsewhere

In as much as anything is ours
-even our names are given to us
only for a time -
what you never had
you possess more
in absence

because absence is a memorized space
created by the arches of longing and losing

and when you embrace it
you are finally
suddenly
through