I am the lull in the conversation
The crack between the track and train.
I am the gap in the information,
The separation of pleasure from pain.

I live in inky mist and fog,
The shadows drawn by evening coats,
A will-o-wisp above the bog,
The bridges spanning castle moats.

So drink me like a basement wine,
Examine me like a fossil stone.
I'll make them one, your soul and mine,
And inhabit you, the Great Unknown.