hollow_is_white sixteen when I click the link for "hollow" all I see is white... there are grooves between the tendons that twist through my hands. They are sunken graves for the letters that didn't make it down through my fingers and into a word a sentence or a poem. I am filled with gaps-- little hollow spaces carved out of necessity or indulgence. lost emotion squeezes into the emptiness, hides while I fumble for some sort of feeling, and resurfaces on a monday morning tangled in tendons and covered in blood. 030616 ... god ouch. better watch more jane fonda videos. 030616 what's it to you? who go blather from