A Pair

I am blind, but I

feel an unwavering certainty that

I am not alone.

I know this as a truth,

yet I wonder if through this

leathery skin I will recognize

your entry.

Or if you will recognize mine.

Through every passing month

without you I have become *****

I can’t help but wonder if you have too.

If we have become too

ruined to see each other for what we truly are;

a pair.

But I keep my dirt lodged in the

crevices of my sole

and continue to walk alone,

and with every passing brush

I imagine your gentle tongue discovering me,

and I am happy.

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