I have drunk of the vacancy of being
and not all the wine in this world
will make me sober again.

un homme du vide
je vois et j'ai vu
je vois et je ne vois plus
entre moi-meme et toi-meme

jamais rien personne

tu m'aurais
je te connaitrais
seulement seulement

unsubtle unsought truth for I am hollow
and I am hollow
an empty shell yes a shell
so ricepaper thin
that the shell itself is no longer there
being but a wisp
or fog of breath on a cold day
briefly holding form but not really
a trick of eye and brain
themselves illusion

Subject and object like a basket holding water
or my fist the wind.
Can this audacious heart love
only by analogy?
For beauty beheld is not beauty held
and you are no metaphor.