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Lyn-Purcell Sep 2018


~ ⚈♡⚈ ~

You don't need sight to see my soul,
my love
****** and trace your fingers on my
skin and feel

Underneath the anticipation
of our very first night, my
dress becomes a silken
stream around my feet

I want you to touch me...
Truly touch me...

Trace over my temple and feel
the hearth of my heart; the
flames burn hot and true
for you

****** the pillars and feel
the cracks; like you, the
edges of my soul
are marred

Close your eyes and feel the
sun's kisses and the shadowed
whispers; my most precious
of dreams and darkest of fears

Fingers thread together,
through my hair,
foreheads kiss
lips reddens
tongues strokes
skin enkindles
goosebumps rise

See and smell my
roses,and taste the
salt of my rain

See my heart,
how crudely it's stitched
and salve my pain with
your love and truth

My body is your breath...
I am your braille
and yours alone...


During this night,
the first of many,
let us join together
and give birth to
purest love...

~ ⚈♡⚈ ~


Mind's still blocked, but it's not as bad as yesterday's.
I'm working on the next part of the Masked Bard series.
Thank you everyone for your kind comments towards me in my poem 'Would'. It means alot to me, truly. I'm sorry that if I sound like a broken record, but I am truly grateful. As of next week, I will be able to go through
everyone's comments. This week alot of things have happened in and out of my course and honestly, it's made me feel so drained.
I'll make a collection for the Masked Bard so you can catch up!
Thank you all again, you mean so much to me!
Lyn ***
Poetic T Aug 2018
Beauty is braille
written in the fingertips.

Never reading a word upon you,
              as my palms were pages.


And you were every word on them.
japheth Jul 2018
if i
embrace you
hard enough,

will it numb
the knives
you stabbed
on my back?

will the blood
quietly seep
—run down my legs,
and create
a puddle covering
our tired feet
from dragging each other
up until this point?

will my arms
slowly give
and let you go;
leaving marks of my grasp
on my skin like red vines all over it?

will my face,
my tears,
my lips,
leave an impression
on your chest
creating a braille
only your blind heart
could understand?

will my embrace
be enough
for you to stay?
guys, ive been feeling a lot lately and as a writer i have never felt so hurt reading my own piece unlike this one.

i read an article recently about how braille is applied in our daily lives for the convenience of our visually impaired folk so i added a little bit of it to this piece
J Ann May 2018
Our book of love is written in braille
I can read into our love story
But I am too scared to open my eyes to see it
Because one can daydream a story up in a minute
But we never want to face and see the reality of what it will be
We all want to look into that persons best attributes
But looks can be deceiving
So go with what you know
And stick to the story that is slowing being written
Because skipping a chapter will only leave the reader lost
And once lost it will be hard to be found again
julianna Apr 2018
I am a comprehensive manual,
But I'm written in braille.
They open me and soon realize
that they don't really care.
I cannot speak their language,
Communicate my thought
So every day that passes,
they just watch me fall apart.
If you love me, please put in the effort to learn my "language". I have trouble communicating because of my anxiety and it has really affected me. I know I don't make sense at times, but I need you to keep trying. (may edit)
26 | 31 Poems for August 2017

These pictures sharpen the edges of blunt memories.
All I ever wanted was for you to feel my words like Braille.
But somehow you were blinded by the sight of someone else’s love.
All I ever wanted was to be the poem written on the pages of your soul.
I constantly keep reminiscing about the days when I used to feel whole.
Whenever I’m feeling low, I get high off the thought of blunt memories.
I need love and freedom – I need to let you and all our memories go.
Our love is as deep as the ocean but I can no longer go with the flow.
I may never find a reality worth dreaming about if my heart is filled with doubt.
All I have left are these pictures of you that slowly sharpen the edges of our blunt memories.
If your blunt ever lasts longer than our conversations then I hope you’ll get high off the thought of you and me.
JR Morales Jul 2017
I can read your skin
Like a map in the dark.
And every pore,
Begging for more,
Rises to meet my lips.
Ellie Geneve Nov 2016
You run your fingers
down the sulci of my brain
and read my all
like I'm written in braille
Ciel Jul 2016
The poison is in all of us:
Half-smoked cigarettes lay on the side of grainy gravel paths,
crinkly Dollarama bags and glass beer bottles.
We relax on trees
leaning
backs against the braille texture of bark
that tries to speak to us in a language we don’t understand.
We lean back and raise our faces
towards the sunlight dancing between
the leaves of the canopy,
listening to the tires
whizzing against concrete,
but think it similar to the smacking of waves against stones;
lean back and savour the syrupy smell of maple trees
against our tongues,
thinking to ourselves
how grateful we are for nature
as we sit in a paradise of tall trees
their branches intertwined in a space
smaller than bathroom stalls;
lean back and breathe in exhaust
and cigarette smoke masked
behind a layer of sweet antiperspirants
and coconut-scented shampoos
as the wind whips hair against your face.
We take peaceful naps against the undeciphered braille,
but the poison is in all of us
and one day this paradise will become
nothing.
A bed of dirt
blanketed by prickly store-bought
strips of grass.
Francie Lynch Apr 2015
Braille understood
The power of words -
The duality,
The irony
That all can feel
When words are raised,
To we, the blind,
Through poetry.
Even in titles. :)
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