Edited, sent somewhere.

Long-awaited expulsion of ego in real-time

Waking in the dark I am obsessed with seeing.
I hunt for a corner on where I stand. I stand
for long minutes trying to open my open eyes;
trying shut eyes, blinking ones; trying
rubbing eyes, slowly.

I raise my hands to where I should see them,
seek cracks in curtains that have been there
for nights and days. I am obsessed with how
I have lost sight of my own eyelids that blink
and blink against the dark.

And so it happens: I wonder
what has happened to my window
to everyone else to the sun to the universe
I have never looked upon enough?