White Nothing – A Poem

White Nothing

A wine bottle and a revolver
two steps from a third floor window.

“I hear you Mary. Mary. Do you hear me?

I hear you Mary.” Androids motion
the kitchen red. Blue light
dyes the hall
fogs the back rooms. Mary sits in the blue
light on the bedroom floor scratching
the length
of a steel string on an acoustic guitar. Remi

stands between table and window. Drinks
wine straight
from the bottle. Sniffs the barrel of his gun
as he leans
and peers
out the window. “Mary

I’m feeling..
fuck…

You know Mary? I’m fucking mindless!”
The C string screeches. Moaning for the voiceless.
There are orders on the counter.
Official documents.
Delivered.

Signed for.
Postman vultured over the clipboard as Remi
scrawled on the receipt. Manila envelope torn.

In the trash. Mary stares at the guitar and screetch
goes the E string
this time.
Fingernail skipping ridges
jumping chasms. Remi enters the room. Blue light
buzzes. “See Mary. They’re here.

Here. There.”
Standing in front of her he points the gun at her head.
The barrel nestled
in her hair.
She stops scratching the guitar string. Looks up into the
shaft
of the gun. It matches
her eyes. Vacant and threatening.

Red corridors
and
a dark tunnel. And
neither believe in salvation.

“Mary. Get me a cigarette. Go on. Get me a cigarette Mary.”
At the dresser she opens the middle
drawer. Inside
beside
lipstick and a pickaxe is a pack and a lighter.
She lights one

and hands it to him. Takes the bottle from him. Drains it.
Pours it out onto the hardwood floor where it splatters
ricocheting
small drops
on her shins.
Angel tears she thinks and places her feet in the puddle.
Wiggling toes swimming
in the seraphim pool.
She
kneels to soak it up.
Gathers it up with both hands to wipe her knees
her shoulders
her face

wanting the liquid to stain her skin. Maybe it will be a free pass.
Remi grabs her beneath the shoulder. Lifts her up with
gentle force. He leads her out of the blue light.
To the window steps away from the table
by the kitchen.

“Look Mary. Out there. Look. There. The world and life
and lies. Look Mary. Look.”

She looks but does not see anything. Just a blinding white void.
The world is too bright. Too iridescent. She places a hand on the window
and the purple wine
streaks the pane. She takes the revolver out of Remi’s hand. Slowly unloads
the chamber.
Puts a bullet up to her lips.
Sucks it into her mouth to
taste the oily
metal sting her tongue. Bows her head
out the window and spits the bullet

into
white nothing.

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