A Void

Black misses and leaves an agony of seeing something that resides in a shade. Black never hits on target, that target of hope. Black is the absence of hope. If one’s humor is black then it might be bitter, and the taste of bitter is like perfume splashing on the tongue. The black there is still a color. It was just a mistake.

The soft scent of hope laughs at a tongue’s daring enjoying its consumption. It doesn’t turn completely black until all hope is exhausted and the tongue stops trying. Because it can’t. It is black with rigor mortis.

But once hope resigns its contempt it replaces the mute’s tongue with its own. Pink. Vibrant. Pulsing tongue. Filling the void.


One thought on “A Void

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s