There is an absence
Fear cannot fathom
Until that hole
Gets torn open,

When the space itself
Becomes meaning
And emptiness
Assures you of faith –

A heaven in loss
Merely waiting
After hope falls through
Chasing freedom,

Like wishes fulfilled
Despite failure
To determine today
As some gift

Or God’s bad dream
Always playing
Behind those eyes
Missing chances

For surrendering sleep
Wasting nightmares
Divinely instilled
By that fate.

Our choice
Finds agony ripe
On vines long hung
Over pleasure,

With nothing at stake
Beyond living
Among lazier souls
Left at home –

Those saddened minds
Taking breaks
Between phone calls
Friends never answer,

Drawing peace
While exhaling such anguish
Through breaths so short
From unrest

Upon pages blank
Needing pictures
Where memories
Assemble their puzzle

Across margins
Poems should bury
Beneath blotted truths
Disarranged.

These words
Are messy relief
Yielding solace
Veiled amid clutter,

Seeking company
Dead despite speaking
Off immortal lines
Believed flawed –

All lonely liars
Descend
Ink’s shadowy pit
Hiding mirrors,

Since reflections
Offer them purpose
Being idle
Yet oddly engaged.

• J. Pigno