The Spaces Between

Sometimes looking beyond whats displayed for us, can be a wonderful thing.

If logic was a book bearing only numbers

The possibility to find nonsense lay there

In the spaces between

 

Where ink left empty and unspotted could translate to nothingness

And blanks are seen as mere blanks.

Unless there’s desire to see.

See where you haven’t been told to see,

At sights that haven’t been printed for you,

Sights not allocated to match criteria and ‘said’ necessities,

Pages that cannot and would not jump out at you if they had the choice.

 

They would remain mockingly blank,

Revelling only to you the numbers they themselves had been told to write

Unless your choice is to see.

 

Like each dash and blank is an undoubtable stencil, eager in wait,

Though, if content with spoon-fed ideas and philosophies,

Go on with your day,

Ignoring the spaces in-between