On Nothing

I wanted to know there was nothing.
I kept knocking. When I touched
the door with my palm the wood froze.
When I called your name you slept behind
drifts of rain for nine hours.
There was snow in everything I spoke.
Your eyes filled with the green paralysis of
trees, months of wind at our lips.
Please don’t worry. The bell
that once rose from my throat
in breath below you blurs into the night.
I have less than I had when I first saw you.