Horror Vacui

Camille Rankine

I look into the air it presses on me
a gale knocking
at my chest my paltry
bag of hungers and dubiety I want
for wonder for anything

to say to ask a question
of an empty room and a ghost
in the doorway mouths
something about change
but everything is static

or I am the ghost and without question
the room crowds me out the whole room
runs right through me
I am transfixed I stack my slip of skin
against the atmosphere

I can’t contain myself but I can only
see so far I lift
my face to the dark and the dark
fills me because I am small and it is night
I make shapes of the stars

Last updated September 07, 2022