Darkness
is all I can see in this square room,
with four blank walls
and a bare floor—
I cannot even see my body,
though I can feel its warmth.

Not even my hands in front of my face
can be seen, but the walls can’t be longer
than fifteen feet each—
or so I guess, measuring
heel to toe, heel-to-toe.

I’m not sure whether I should look for you
or just wait here;
but surely I do part of the work,
and I want to be found busy, trying.

So now I am just running my hands along,
down,
these blank walls, in the dark.