Black Hole

The hole in the middle of being
bounces back all the light
I can throw at it.
There is a quality to the emptiness,
the shallow vacuum and its search for substance,
that utterly defeats knowledge.
I have no hope of fathoming its surface.
I plunge in,
reaching with both arms as far as I can,
and find no depth,
but only my reflection shot back at me in a flash.
It is more solid than I,
this emptiness,
that makes me by throwing me back.
It is searching for my substance.
I can feel its reach.
I hope it finds something
it can touch.

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2 Comments on “Black Hole”

  1. dantrewear Says:

    “It is more solid than I / this emptiness / that makes me by throwing me back” – a thought-provoking image, lovely. A very existential poem!
    peace, Dan

  2. Eric Alagan Says:

    Words say one thing, reality seems contrarian – profound

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