Something

There is only something,

never nothing,

though you and I may wish

that nothing was possible

and that its comfort

could glow over us

like the silken shifting moon

on a cloudless blackened night.

 

All these somethings are always

shifting and only ever can be seen in

the sometimes subtle

and sometimes blazing

light of the other.

 

For Jacques Derrida

 

24/6/2017

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