Proof Is Nothing

No message could be perfect
And be, but freed from being
A message and more than one,

No message can be perfect
As none. The dead have never
Stopped sending no messages.

Of course, you make up your own,
Many, many messages
From your dead who send you none,

And those say all kinds of things,
And some of them may soothe you,
But then you are sad again.

You thought you wanted some words
Out of existing language
To float to you from the dead,

Words they, living, never said.
Maybe you were wrong. Maybe
No message should be perfect.