The Big Nothing

Motionless on the bed,
“Being held” found “being happy”
And they found a cheap place
Near the amygdala to settle down.
Have some children to call their own,
“Rumination” and “forbidden love”

The end of the ends and outs.
Intuition bursting,
The technical fading,
The bohemian failure going home,
Packing her bags for the road.

And then the bones feel like broken jazz,
Death becomes a tall glass of water,
And I become the smallest book
In the biggest library.