If you ever take me for granted, I'll take you
by the hand, confound you this way and that
in a maze of Gothic passageways I memorised
year by year, nameplate by shutter by headstone,
to a place where the scent of crushed geranium
mingles with the sour lagoon - a blind alley
that comes to an end in three scooped steps
down to a green canal; there I'll unfasten
the muslin binding your eyes and say Venice
all Venice is lapping your feet
and darling you'd be lost without me.
- Gregory Warren Wilson
Blindfold
(Fair warning!)
