the blind woman

February 6, 2017 at 8:36 pm Leave a comment

The Blind Woman

The blind woman is dancing
out on the dimlit floor, shaking
her head
and tossing her golden hair
(i have felt her
heavy, well-kempt
scented hair), her gestures somehow formless,
unknowing.

She doesn’t even know
i watch her.
(I sip my beer, and sigh.)
What does she think of, who
does she see, lost
in her private world?

Later, walking away, muttering silently to my self, i wonder:
who watches my
private dances?

________________________________________

Real. And real.

Entry filed under: voices. Tags: , .

truth tone poem: shaded light

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