nothing

it’s dark
and dry
and strangely calm
it’s warm
enough
to feel my toes
strike
the floor
and scurry me along
this absence of light
this purity
this blocking out of sound
this meat and drink
that fills the space
between
my belly
and my bones
a comfort
a trial
a conundrum of sorts
a thread
in the tapestry of time
i sit
suspended
outside of my mind
in a sphere
that feels a bit square
trapped
in a box
of my own unmaking
unmasking my soul
to the wild