Form is empty
Like your tongue, your touch, your taste,
the sound of your voice, your scent in space
and in your impermanence, I’ve found
you’ve an addictive quality not soon replaced
appearing muscular, solid – yet not
and, dependent on past patience, quite hot
so when I reach out to grasp, to touch
my mind makes the form I crave so much
Feeling is empty
But dependent upon your appearance
and in dependence upon mine
I have felt this drunken romance
of two dumb hearts entwined
empty of inherent existence
our feelings grew and grew
now in dependence upon your kindness
I feel my heart in you
Discrimination is empty
To tell this from that
seemed rather straightforward
until our limbs were encumbered
with slick sweat and fatigue
and from under, lungs that heaved
and pressed two chests together
so one could not begin nor end
and certainly neither leave
a body that neither of us owns
made two bodies pleased
Compositional Factors are empty
Appropriated aggregates which function
to cause us suffering from our side
for from this contaminated root
grows our self-grasping apprehending I
and then come the branches of delusions
sprouting their poisonous fruit
yet we’re not tempted like Adam and Eve
Enlightenment is our pure pursuit
Consciousness is empty
Still producing samsara
this mind is like a teeter-totter
so we made compassion our motivation
to take self-cherishing to slaughter
equalizing and exchanging with the other
– how taking and giving make you hotter –
with our self-grasping now destroyed
we are water into water
My name is empty
Never to fall into either extreme
I feel your existence like a dream
so tonight when I lay down my head, and
my hand touches yours in our shared bed
I’ll see one achievement more supreme
than how we transformed one evil deed
now easy to remember we’re mere name
still, my wish for you remaining same.
The Halfwit Writer 