Blind Fish

Caught here in your limestone cave,

lost in a limbo of slow water torture,

for you, each day is always night.

Condemned to circle contours of a god’s

state of mind, all pale swimmers

in this light are a deck of cards

shuffled by a pro. I back away

& you come forth like falling

leaves, & when I come closer,

you ease away. How do you see

into darkness? I wonder if you know

the shape of gone, of never been born.