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