Love Is Blind
LOVE IS BLIND
Love is blind
that might explain all the groping,
the endless touching,
the constant need to get closer –
to whisper.
Love is blinded
by lust’s desire to gaze –
longingly - into the abyss
of a lover’s eyes,
fall weightlessly
through the stages of romance,
sleep in the scented dreams
of satiations pillows.
Love is blind
and in its blindness sees
only the object of its love,
believes only the words
of its Braille touch,
knows only the fulfillment
of itself.
Love is blind
to all but that which it seeks,
knows only what it senses
in the heat of the moment,
consumes only those who seek
its sightless beauty.
3/30/2016
submitted to – Cliché – Poetry contest
sponsor – Silent One
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