when I am blind with hurt whatever bralle-less truth you tell me can't be read
when this pain gropes
my fingers reach for any spelling
hear what squeezes me – I cannot breathe
the counting grows: I'm owed
my blind pain claims its space
for handicaps – it wears dark glasses
when you move toward me
flinches from your touch
because you know I can't see
yet would violate my heart
and you will never
have this chance again
...
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