“Nothing” by Rachel Brower

Just nothing at all;
such emptiness
in that word
is a vast room vacated,
grubby and sparse
inviting the wake
of parading echoes.

What I am to you,
intensely removed
bitter ends
untied and frayed.

What you are now,
locked down fast
driving to a fate
dreamt about and whispered;
another taste

of karma's sour debt.