I take my breath and know

That nothing is moving here

Nothing is moving anywhere

Nothing passes by anything

No thing touches another thing

There is just a notion

A fleeting, mercurial, ghost of an image

Insubstantially overlaying.

There is nothing to collect here

No memory a shadow of its former self

No shade

Of a ghost not there

To even write about.

Nowhere to share it

Nowhere for it to exist.

Yet here I lay it

Out of my heart

Translated through whispers

Taps of my fingers

Silence not moving

Into Silence.