My Name is Camille

It is a city without a name. The streets, the people, the buildings, the colors are all without a name.

My name is Camille. I harbor my name like a secret and walk around the city guilty and cursed.

It's wrong to even call it a city because "city" is a name. And since it isn't named, it's forgotten. A Forgotten City.

It's wrong to even think about it in words. Since words are just names.

And there's no such thing as Time.

Since there isn't Time, there isn't Distance.

There's Nothing. But even Nothing is a name. And wrong.

Still it's a beautiful city.

And I continue to walk around, thinking of names that are all wrong.