It’s all about the
negative space now—
the shapes made within
and between
the branches of our lives.
I never could see it before,
or only glimpses— all foreground,
blinded by the obvious
beauty of form and sense—
black lines against a grey sky
missing the interplay of polygons
and the fantastic show
of kaleidoscopic metamorphosis
that lies in the bardo of the physical world,—
that illusory expanse
between objects,
and the imaginary vestibule
between you and I
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