following you into the dark
tethering my hair to the walls
smudging more sooty fingerprints
along the labyrinth
the lack of light
is kind to our expression
memory grasps with desperate hands
takes initiative
assuming position in the blackness
we fall into line
never missing a cue
never dropping a beat
lingering in the void
where it doesn't matter much if
eyes are closed or not
the absurdity
leashed with sticky threads
in the blindness I am
at home in your wake
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