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grasping, grasping
but there’s nothing
not even thin air

you can write about thin air
high up in the himalayas
the crisp cold shackling all
the masks needed
simply to survive
to where earth touches sky
so no, not even thin air
not that at all.

nothing, really
emptiness
words, words
where are the words
that form, congeal
to one sentence
one phrase
that one moment
vowel, consonant
that opens doors
to new spaces
new ways
to live, be, see, perceive…

but what are lists to this
out and out grey
where silence doesn’t live
but holds all reigns
to sensation, reason…

though it may be
just a matter of timidity,
the smaller brother to that
icy little feeling, cowardice

for how spell out everything
and break through that wall
that holds everything in,
that hesitates, just when
the words want to be written

no, it won’t do at all.