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.