And the vapidity that was left

There is no emptiness I can see.

In the nightly calm of the suburbs, like a train taking off, lit and released, with the one intent behind the journey.

I can't see any vacuity, but very little is one caretaker. A hard banner on its peak shows a trembling in the breeze and something heavier, and the tides of lease.

to just what happened after, and was unable to come back because it was palpable by the whites. And the vapidity that was left.

Now I should regret that no one recognized or wanted what I was thinking right up to now, could I accept?