Poem: Blind

Blind

by Me

If you were to turn out the light,
and I was standing next to you,
I would still smell you.
and remember us.
Drifting in a cloud of smoke
and tapping my foot
we leave people behind
even if they are right next to us
How does the feeling stay?
Fresh as laundry
Old as pearls
While inclination changes
and memory unfurls.