A bit empty,
Vacant,
Unreachable as clouds.
Detached,
At the edge of boredom,
Unimaginative,
Disengaged,
The blurred background,
A minimalist painting,
My canvas almost bare,
And all could be.
That a bird might traverse my crystalized space,
A plane might soar into the deepest blue,
Caressing the mist,
That wings might spread,
New things could appear.