Senseless (III)

I have no words for how I feel,
yet I feel nothing.
Where’s that word?
It cannot be
if I can’t feel.
If all I feel is nothingness
then nothingness ensues.
And since it’s words that voice our airs
there’ll be no words to choose.
They cannot be
if I can’t feel.
And I feel nothing;
I have no words.
Where are they now?
Within the mouth of yet another
love that I’ll destroy?
They come to me with every kiss
and tumble gently off my lips,
and onto paper,
via pen,
just like the prior,
and the former,
and the one that’s yet to come,
to come about and leave,
to say what they don’t mean,
just like the prior,
and the former.
Both have come to pass.

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