by Maria Francesca

these eyes of mine
only tell me things
I don't need to know:

the color of your hair
the shape of your eyes
the form of you.

none of it useful
in navigating
the straits of your heart.

I learn you
by braille:

my heart's fingers
moving along your lines
to tell me the story of you.


Posted on 05/24/2008
Copyright © 2022 Maria Francesca

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Jeffrey Parren on 05/24/08 at 03:36 PM

This reminded me of something I just read in "The Bitter Oleander" entitled "The Blind Fisherman" by Ines Pujos...I think you would like it, as I did this romantic piece. ~JPP

Return to the Previous Page

pathetic.org Version 7.3.2 May 2004 Terms and Conditions of Use 0 member(s) and 2 visitor(s) online
All works Copyright © 2022 their respective authors. Page Generated In 0 Second(s)