The moon and the hole

Once there was a hole that was forever falling in on itself
‘Alas!’, cried the hole, ‘How can I ever be free from myself?’
‘How can I be filled by what I do not have?
If only I were half a hole, things might be better.’
The moon replied:
‘Sometimes I shine light
And sometimes I shine dark
And sometimes I shine half
Such duality may yet be useful to you.’
‘Whatever do you mean?’, wept the hole.
‘What one knows one lacks
One knows best of all
Holes and wholes
Are closer than we think.’