I was sitting against a tree,
but there was no tree.
The sky was blue like the bow on a newborn boy,
but there was no sky. There were no newborns and no colors.
The smell of bread crept inside my nostrils,
but there was no bread. There were no smells.
I ached, but I had no feelings.
I wrote, but there were no words.
These are not words.
These are not words and they do not describe.
There is no world and there is no I in which things happen.
There is nothing. There is not even nothing.
I have just negated everything.
I have just negated everything and still
there is the thought of you.