the Moirai would be very proud of this tenuous string you have the narrator walking, methinks.
the cyclical motifs and extended metaphor that builds this poem, and the refrain that grounds it, big fan. when wordplay becomes worldplay, you know you are reading something special (or, at the very least, I do).
this poem is something special, Guy. It's not the most vulnerable I've seen one of your narrators, but it is pretty darn close.
the use of sight and feeling is a fun pairing - especially in the context of emerging from our egg. sight consistently being one of the last senses to develop, touch the first. certainly creates that alpha omega sense that, in so few words, you have crafted something all encompassing.
it makes the last stanza feel very real, the line between life and death might truly be so thin.
this is one of those pieces that I love to read, and read thrice, @geekorner, if the poem was a case, I'd have to say you cracked it.
"Moirai" is cute, but when I do not call them "The Fates," I must say that my name of choice is "The Norns" :D But really, this is one case where I find the translated term to be my favourite, heh.
Thank you Alain! By the by, you know that all my "narrators" in these poems I wrote in the past month or so are all me, right? I'm writing with my life's blood here. This poem is exactly about where you are at after you bare yourself, after a long time of not having done so.
There are so many good things to do with sight and touch, such as one being the first way others touch you, and the other being the last. Also, lines in defense, if you think of it.
And again, thank you for all the kind words, they are part of the fuel that helps the poetry keep coming. Though most of it is coming from the muse, I won't lie and say this isn't helping as well :)