I am writing to my dead wife because, perhaps, I have lost my mind.
Perhaps there was no sanity, before my loss;
Perhaps no wife.
Perhaps I have lost nothing
Or something close to nothing.
How close can you get to nothing?
Is nothing a possible destination,
A reachable end,
Or is everywhere equally close to nowhere?
Awake is not aware;
Nor does wakefulness
I write to my dead wife,
To a dream.
Is the dream less real: more real?
Meaning is a path from experience to understanding,
But I write unanswerable questions.
Perhaps unquestionable answers would be better?