( • blind, pt. ii • )

we play with time like children

a sandbox at a park

digging to see where the bottom rests

where the leaves on the trees change

with the help of a friend

we forgot how to accept

saw as an enemy

a holder of grim realities

and turned our backs

only to know

it has followed us

until the day

we sunk under the sand

and found the bottom

not with our hands

or our plastic shovels

but our bodies.