i am a void in the atmosphere, a gap in the air
shaped like a man, you can see my faint refracted outline;
a column of gasses in the middle, mouth to cloudy lungs.
your hand is excluded from this sacred space as
you try to wave through me, try to feel the void;
where breath cannot go, there flesh too is banned.
what then can occupy this vacuum, can hold this shape?
it is not a vacuum, it is room and space for a spirit.
a spirit, a spirit; for time it holds the air at bay.
