.no .thing

Do you know that feeling?

Of nothing?

Of everything?

That feeling that strikes deep

And leaves you speechless

With a dumb look on your face

That feeling?

In deep contemplation

Of absence?

Of presence?

What is that?

But it goes away

But not really

It’s stored in your bookshelf

Waiting for the moment

That you pick it out

Of the many other books

Of love

Of hate

To bring you back

To where you have

Nothing to say

Nothing to think

And somehow

You look at the appendix

And all your other books are listed

But as you flip through

The endless pages

No words are present

But still

All you ever need to know

Is in that book

And this perplexes you

And this enlightens you


Are you sure there is no THC in this stuff?
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