listening to what others cannot live without

while realizing, I can’t live with what they have

and what I have to give is not something they want

it’s invisible…

what good can it be used for

what good are the thousands of conversations

the thousands of documents with misspelled words

“you made a mistake.”

but that mistake is filed away and forgotten

like the ocean’s waves that continue lapping, on the shore

the ocean is not its waves, but the ocean

and maybe what I have to offer, is not what I have to offer


it’s something I am

that I can’t give away, without giving of myself.


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