from “Please Bury Me in This”
 ~Allison Benis White

Now my neighbor through the wall playing piano, I imagine, with her

          eyes closed.
 
When she stops playing, she disappears.
 
I am still waiting for the right words to explain myself to you.
 
When there was nothing left to smoke, I drew on my lips with a pen

            until they were black.
 
Or is this what it means to be empty: to make no sound?
 
I pressed my mouth to the wall until I’d made a small gray ring.
 
Or maybe emptiness is a form of listening.
 
Maybe I am just listening.

Copyright © 2016 Allison Benis White. Used with permission of the author.