How to empty out:
Tilt the vessel,
not too much, but enough.
Allow a steady flow.
Too fast and there is a gush, a breakdown of barriers: a flood.
Too slow? Torturous drops: insanity.
Tilt until empty.
Do not refill.
I fear this empty vessel.
Nature does not fear, it hates—abhors a vacuum;
I do too. I want to fill it up,
create a new story, bring in wants and desires;
fulfill my needs by being full.
But I won’t.
I will sit with this emptiness and explore its shadowy depths. I will
relish its rough hidden geography and
savour the crags that scrape my hands and cut my bare feet. I will
run in wild abandon; I will
dance out the pain.
My blood will spell out my name,
capitals all, a flowing script of
indelible ink. There will be no mistake.
This vessel is claimed: the emptiness complete.