I am blind to certain frequencies of light
I can feel heat at my back, but I can’t turn around
The kind of blindness that prevents me from seeing who I am

I want to recoil from the world
Coil again into the shapes of larvae and wait for the
Dark underground to release me, on some peculiar schedule

Water of the soil rises up with the heat
And suffuses the air with curls of molecules
Another action to which I am blind

Look!  Don’t you see?  See what I am saying?
I stab blindly at the answers
If I could just have one, and correct,

Perhaps you would release me, let me go
I would stumble into your arms again
And see your breath in the freezing air.