poetry = nonsense
nonsense = meaninglessness
meaninglessness = void
void = nothingness
nothingness = spirit

Her smile
he traced his finger down her cheek contemplating longingly though more in exploration of his own desire than of her physiognomy desire. something alien to machines and wooden toys that he faltered to comprehend but that surged within like a turbid mountain spring a jet stream cutting through clouds the rush of salmon in a placid fjord each night he practiced dying by closing his eyes and lying very still whilst his consciousness dissolved and imagining, he would never return he wanted to die well leaving nothing behind with all internal conflicts resolved, quiesced he imagined crawling into a small crevice to die alone like an insect unknown and quickly forgotten he imagined dying a little every day with less and less of him left until the actual dying was merely perfunctory a mere punctuation he imagined inhaling for the last time and letting go of everything including that girl and her magnificent smile and despite his many winters he had barely lived so practice, he needed none she smiled with curling lips that promised his desire in that moment his heart palpitating faintly he couldn’t help but imagine that dying must be like the whole world fading to black leaving behind only her smile [2-IV-2021]
Copyright © 2011 Erick Calder
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