Somebody asked me about ethereal
Is it a what? A who? A when?
And what you know, may I ask
the reply I gave out?
I thought.
Paused.
It always gives the same answer.
The one that haunts me
The one that I long to reunite with
The one who never stops calling my name
The question was repeated,
perhaps with a frown, wondering why the long pause
I drank my coffee and opened my book,
"Too precious to share," my voice almost cracked
And I think the whole world finally understands
why even in nothingness I suddenly smile.
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