The sea of night. Night and the sea. I am blind, blind. It runs right through me, leaving me timeless, leaving me spaceless, leaving me nothing but a container of a wild current. Sea and the night pound in my bones. All of it, all of it comes down to this. My breath of a body is no more than a scoop, a second’s container of a dark current. It seeps and swirls, it rocks and rakes, my outside is scattered, but something still holds it, I am back together, that is the way of it

blind, blind
listening, listening

a matchstick man new-formed and clinging to a shred of time

above him the stars, around him the night

within him the sea

again the pounding, the current unlocking, and then – out of that – there is a survival

in the sea of night for the breath of a second I have been connected to the earliest being and the newest direction and the last going

seeking, seeking
listening, listening
speaking, speaking

I am blind but awake

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