Find a corner of the mind.
Push past, halve the time.
Close your eyes and then repeat,
till the question starts to speak:
Do I sail a dizzy sea?
Do the waves roil over me?
If that proves untrue,
how does that shape the view?
If the minds the grand device,
if the world is its sweet disguise,
all I feel are blues and greens
out on the dizzy sea.
Even my love
can't set my thoughts to run, or
pull the witch bloom from my tongue.
How our secrets intersect.
How our seam is just a stitch.
Where's the dark and what's the light?
How does the sea divide?
Find a corner in the mind.
Push past, halve the time.
How our secrets intersect.
How our secrets come to bed.
In the dark for long enough,
more than the eyes adjust—