The room is empty. Now the walls retreat
into a hazy white, their substance gone.
Make clear to me our staggering conceit
in dreaming for ourselves a solid form.
The particles of our existence hung
abandoned in the solitary gloom.
All of our hopes and fears to darkness flung,
our Selves as empty as the empty room.
But as this form unravels and falls through,
with all the self I have, I still love you.
