Forgetting that it isn’t the real reason for feeling
less than a part, you’re back where being even
considered an element meant something you’d
have mortgaged your soul for - if you’d found it
negotiable, but you’re now here where that’s a
non sequitur; arguments you’re worth anything
don’t take much space, creating emptiness too
tangibly indifferent to real solidities of sense
So its just a memory - like you only exist if you
miss starting to think of it - and even if for your
only instance - there’s no need for a presence
to prove redundancy; and ideas of being more
mythology carting requirements than vacancy,
its a state more amenable than being a part
© 26 January 2016, I. D. Carswell
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