Space Between
The space between
what is,
what is not,
what was,
what’s yet to come
a void,
unmarked,
like untouched parchment.
Conjure anything upon it,
with it.
Infuse it with existential ache
or the unburdened wonder of a child.
Revel.
Adorn it with the sun,
or the moon,
with me and you.
Imprint it with all you are.
Drench it,
as if it’s your final moment there.
Extract every drop
from the marrow of your being.
Its destiny is forged by your hands
in ways you cannot yet fathom.
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