Empty Space

 I walk on air. In a room with no wind.There is only one of me and a thousand things I could be.I am precisely none of those things.Forms, what form will I take when I am essentially made of nothing?I am none of this. I'm the paper before you write on it.The canvas before you paint. Simple, I am flat.I rearrange myself so I can fit into your sentences.Between your words.I am the thing the moment before breath.The other thing, the non-breath.There are ceilings with my name on them.Bare Ceilings and white walls in this room that say my story.The ceiling in this room has some cracks in it.That is where I live, in the cracks.You drew a picture of me with your hands.They slipped and my image faded.Remember the hieroglyphics on pyramid walls.You wanted me to be something.But I told you, I am all that is not.No, I'm not a goddess, I just don't look like one.nina