A THINKING BLINDNESS
The lights have gone out.
It could be the 13th century.
You've become a thinking blindness
walking around dark corridors
sneaking up on yourself
holding out your hand
hoping it will not touch something
This is how it should be.
The words come when the mind shifts over
to the primal dark.
Never share any percentage of yourself.
Never give up any small part of the thing that you are.
Talk to yourself.
Settle into the shape of the dark,
into the shape of the body,
the internal organs floating.
It is so easy to see the depth of color in the darkness.
You could pluck the best color for the moment,
each finger knowing what comes next,
What is it about the color green ?
for the wife who talks so much
that you can't hear the person who doesn't speak at all.
Your ways are important to no one but yourself.
You have a lovely house,
and you're oh so happyto be coming home again.