Empty
There’s a lot of empty space.
In the car.
In the passenger seat.
The next stoplight.
Everything stops.
Except one honking horn.
Then it continues.
There’s a lot of empty space.
Except on the mantle.
The remains.
We all have something left.
Even if it’s dust.
There’s a lot-
I sense movement-
Nothing there except a boiling pot-
Loud boiling pot-
Steam-
Is like nothing.
Copyright © Angelica Tao | Year Posted 2024
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