A White Noise


This page with its blankness.

There was an honesty there,

 

its whiteness whirring.

 

My mind mirrored.

 

Unbeginningly wordless it spoke existence.

Its silence, no presumption of language.

 

Its consciousness being in front of me,

I love myself in its natural purity.

 

But then, I do what I do.

 

A word, plucked

fixes that,

fucks that.

 

And once you start

you can’t shut up.

 

So much so,

the best you can hope for

 

is white noise.

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