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Braille
August 27, 2015
THe story of the human body is not written in Braille
Because though we are creatures of touch,
We are not made up of skin and desire
Not made up of cheeks to feel and lips to kiss
We are the kiss the sun blows to the moon
We are the love that runs through our veins in rivers
We are the rain that dances in cloudless skies.
We are the dust that the universe has brushed off her legs
We are the fascination of a child finding an insect
We are the good and evil joining hands.
We are each simply a time capsule of miracles
Waiting to be discovered.
© Mary A., Fullerton, CA
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