from the hole in the skin, the hair

in the tooth hole, the caries live

the ear hole is full of wax

in the vagina, the hole exhales desire

but what about the hole in the soul: what would be its filling?

am I full of filled holes?

or do these holes float in the immensity of space?

what are the colors of the trenches that inhabit such void?

what thickness forms the folds of these holes?

someday I’ll make an expedition

I’ll dig into every hole

not to discover truths or essences

: but just to again feel the gleeful meeting of hands

that used to build tunnels underneath sand castles