Without My Eyes

I wonder why I cannot see in the dark

until the sun sets and I am senseless

reaching into the darkness to try to find some sort of solitude

in someone else’s skin

Without my eyes I am forced to feel

and use my fingers as a compass

And I think there’s a reason the bones in my spine are small and round

They were molded to fit inside each of your kisses

And they are so close together

That you could travel from one to the next

And never miss a single sigh

Perhaps seeing is dispensable

or maybe we don’t need the light of day to show us how to feel

but just darkness and closed eyes

and senses and sighs 

Poem Sketch 1

The sun is cautious in the morning

Peeking out from the ocean

Dipping its toes in the sky

To see how warm the air is

Like a child by the seaside