Write Now, I’m Tired

I feel like I owe you something, Internet. So here is something:

The space between how you feel and I feel
is like the forced spaces between paragraphs,
so subtle and small,
but make so much of a difference
that you, a lover of style and design and words, notices immediately
that there is space—
so subtle and small
but so there.

In language, space can identify thoughtfulness or anger or sorrow.
Space can be hurtful, can be necessary
to carry the weight of everything
you can’t say
in words.

I feel that space between how you feel and I feel.
We float like jetsam into the infinite deep
of saying everything
and nothing at all.

You don’t have to tell me you need space:
it’s there, tangible and wide,
accessible by anyone who isn’t seeking
space at all,
rather a universe of not-space, of ever-there, of presence,
of anything but [_________].

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