Jan H Mysjkin

1955 / City of Brussels

Nothingness

I delve into my memories: nothing,
I retrieve nothing.

I have written, and written, and written.
I have noted everything:
nothing.

The clouds drift by, the river
traverses the plains, the light opens
and shuts.

Nothing,
it leads to nothing.

I note the nothingness so as not to forget it.
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