Empty Page

by Tom Bajoras

As if one could have
either the taste of the thing
or the thing itself,

words deflect
the invasion of now,
the intrusion of here.

I’ve built a whole city
encircled by words—
Inside these walls
I live in a world
where only other people die.

Huddled in a shrinking corner,
I write every day,
because that’s what days are for.
Thoughts becomes words;
words become creatures with wings.
They fly away,
leaving behind an empty page.