The nothing

Over my shoulder
     the shadow eyes watch
In the tiny hairs of my ears
     the shadow voices whisper

I do the crossword
     The shadow helps
     slyly suggesting words
I look out the window at the rain
     The shadow says
     It comes
     It goes
I regard the mirrored mouth
     The shadow asks
     Who’s that?
I tap my feet
     The shadow says
     Wanna dance?

When the shadow speaks
     there’s a pulling.
An in-breath.
     Drawing, searching gravity.

There’s also
     a pausing.
An out-breath.
     A sweeping. A clearing.

At the mention of solitude
the shadow mouth
     turns up its corners
and the shadow eyes

The shadow is not
     an other
Not a space
     holding a place for an other

It’s wu:
the nothing.
     The vastness
where lips
     the ten thousand things
     that constitute the universe
and return.

In the void
     of the shadow soul
     the breathing-in
draws them forth.

In the vastness
     of the shadow mind
     the breathing-out
sweeps them back.

As the ten thousand things
     arise and return
     the nothing
     the shadow mind

whispering loneliness
breathing solitude

sits on its barstool
watching them all

What do you think?

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