Sometimes I wear it willingly,
this laden band across my hawkish eyes.
It saves the mystery,
for there is no unwitting trespass.
Then sudden clarity,
as the blindfold slips
and I can see the quiet and careless damage
across the borders of this life.
But awareness shrinks as I recognise fate,
and the cloth returns with usual weight
and I fumble through this love again,
knowing what isn’t mine.
This cycle of vision and blindness
moves in endless loops:
the blindfold goes
the blindness stays
as we crack
and heal
and crack again.

 

15/3/2025