autotelic, autistic, assonance-hole©.

the dull, empty place

in the dull, empty place
words drop like stones
no echo, no need
thumping heavy to ground
small puff of dust
the only evidence
nothing left to say

pretending to be obtuse
so… how are you
as if it is unknown

sorry, i’ve been busy
you know how it is
yes, indeed
how could i not
you keep telling me
spending time
with that which matters
two weeks vacation
such a busy life

once upon a time
you asked how long
i thought i would love you
i told you until i died
or until you broke my heart

in the dull, empty place
sounds are tactfully muffled
i doubt you ever heard it
through ocean and miles

pointless for me to tell you
you of the convenient amnesia
i sift through the dust
imagine the glimmer of it
as diamonds, not dirt

no amount of imagining
can make diamonds of dirt
i look up as the lid descends
four cardboard walls
ah yes, i remember
a shoebox fantasy

i should have taken that more seriously.