what else can I call it?
walking unknowing
toward our shared destination
sure in each step through nothing
intuitive body memory
pale intuition
the murk of dreams
other wandering visions
the waves in near-darkness
cool blue of distant light
above and all around us
this aspect we turn from
metaphors hanging
incomplete on our lips
fingers, hands reaching
already within us
the resonant keyhole
radio wave broadcast
the eye of our needle
In moments of recognition
mistakes often happen
Some jump toward it
as from a trapeze
make unfamiliar motions
terror twirling their eyes
others mistake it for familiar places
given like sea glass
a paper boat made of memories
no naming it with the words we know
invisible library,
allow me your secrets
seal gaps in my knowledge
with stuff your dark eyes hold
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