Blindfolds and Coffee Mugs – The Blind Boy’s First Love

When in doubt
I think of beauty

The lashes of her eyes
Scratching at my chest
As we wait in silence
Clutching in our sleep
For the sun to rise
Awake and fulfilled
Beyond desires of the flesh

Her smile
Displaces the air around the room
Her wavy hair
Like sandy reefs
I weave myself into their cool embrace
Her fingertips
Adjust my collar
Mixed with the scent of coffee brew
Her perfumed skin
So soft as she caresses me
Her cold chapped lips
Melt as she sips my coffee from the cup

A smile
A breeze of air
A silence in the lover’s midst
A sin so small
A blushing shame
Beyond conception
And every day, I think

I am free
From all anger
From all rage and retribution
From the toil of observation
So mechanic and controlled

I am one
With that overarching eye
Of wisdom to which our souls cling
On which we melt like butter on a pan
With which we age like ancient wine
And squeeze into a gentle juice
We spin on top a gentle blaze
Sit beside the moss at sea
And serve ourselves as dinner
On the plate of everlasting joy

I am liberated
From sight
With her the whole world disappears
And all that remains
Are shadows of a poltergeist
That moves my heart
Towards my inner self
Peels rainbows apart
And wraps my soul with vivid strings

I am blind

3 thoughts on “Blindfolds and Coffee Mugs – The Blind Boy’s First Love

  1. This is what poetry is all about. Letting your soul connect to the character of what is written. The magic that you’re there, reading and feeling the emotions. Nice!

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