When you've worn a blindfold for a day or two
Through eyelids you will start to pick up color and see shapes
And you can hear the sizzling electricity inside you
When the air is still and dark, your own liminal watermark
There's a map of the world drawn on your body
And when you're gone I am the river, when you're gone I carve the canyon
And the path from the world is so familiar
That without sight I know exactly where I'm standing
I'm not pretending
You are here again today
It's muscle memory
How our fingers find their way
It's muscle memory
Unplanned the borders that we chart
It's muscle memory
All our defense in disarray
And if there's more than one way to appear to you
Then I will spend forever just returning to be seen
For there beyond the blindness and the headless and the hunger
I'm reflecting on your skin every impulse you take in
You're the map from the knower to the unknown
And I follow without footsteps, yes I kill without connecting
And the path is the palmistry, the ash, and the autumn leaves
And the blooming of your voice in resurrection