No Space Left

                  Woe to you who add house to house and 
                  join field to field till no space is left 
                  and you live alone in the land.
                                    —Isaiah 5:8
      No space is left for me to try to fill
      inside your solitude. Time's standing still
      there, stuck in line as if it too had grown
      too much for you to squeeze into your zone,
      that place where even room for living's nil.

      Your only default's love. I said, "I will
      erase that emptiness," but lack the skill
      to fit the scheduled hour. I should've known
                              no space is left.

      Too bad you hadn't time for me to kill.
      Doing yourself in so young must've taken skill
      you must take pride in. So then, let's postpone
      collaborating. You'll do fine alone,
      left on your own, packed stone on stone until
                              no space is left.


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