Never is
it nothing.
Emptiness
takes on a shape.
Malignant depth
bereft of benevolence,
sensuously
insensitive,
it fills the space
it is allowed.
A void.
A voice,
as easily
as it is given,
it can be
taken away.
Within its ambiguity
there may be hope.
04/08/2021 j.g.l.
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