Two folded empty negatives 20.1.2016
Waving to nothing.
There is something about breath;
of beginning, end and nothing.
Coming from nothing and going into nothing.
From nothing to brilliance and back to nothing.
Nothing might not be a specific, but random genesis of duration.
How piecing every now is.
Existence is a limbo of nothing.
And It goes quite smoothly,
without the middleman.