A prose on blindness and love
|My finger traces the lines of your elegant form as I try to capture your exquisite contours in my mind. Your skin is soft as silk, as I lightly move across the surface of your body, slowly outlining the intricate features that hold your beauty.
My sense of touch paying close attention to every detail, as not to miss one single line or curve that defines the true essence of your perfection. As lines of the portrait of you take shape within my mind, I start to envision a myriad of pastel colors in which to color you in.
Hues of light violets, warm pinks and soft tans, pale yellows and reds merging into the very color of the sun, which shines deep within your eyes. I paint you lazing on a lush green bank of a slow meandering stream, as vibrant as the light blue sky above of which it reflects.
Rays of silvery sunlight pierce downward between billowy clouds and dance upon the surface of the stream shimmering as if tiny diamonds were scattered across the water, in your hand you hold a single tulip as soft and white as the clouds above you. Above your left shoulder on a low hanging brow of a conifer is perched a lone blue bird singing praise of your kindness and beauty so that all shall know your wonder.
I complete my masterpiece with an almost invisible golden mist that surrounds you. An ever-present aura that represents your undying passion for life and eternal love, that radiates deep from within your being. At last, my mental canvas is complete, a work of art that would rival even the greats if I had the ability to escape my mind or had sight within my eyes. So as my hand comes to rest upon your tender cheek. I add another mental portrait of you to my minds gallery walls, dedicated only to you.