Blind Widower

He knows how to see the dancing atoms of invisibility, how to look through unlit windows, as if he were light gazing in. Sometimes his deceased wife will open a cupboard or wardrobe door, a faint light sheens as if a window had opened in his mind. He doesn’t know what this means. His hands seem guided to find what must be found. She puts worn socks in the wash basket while he sleeps.