Today, you recite Frost.
I've always loved being read to,
But for some reason,
This morning I can scarcely
Absorb your flowing words,
Which instead trickle through my fingers
As their tips register
The vibrations of your voice
At the place where
Your chest and shoulder intersect,
Then trail down your bicep
To the crook of your elbow,
Then turn down the path
Of your forearm,
Then happen, at last,
Upon your precious left hand,
Which brackets the dusty anthology.
I hope you know I touch you
Because I adore you,
Not just because I can't see you.
I am also very pleased to see your work being so publicised. I have been able to get one story published into a yearly literature magazine, and I am thankful for that. I love reading your work, and I enjoy hearing about you!
Lovely! I love the voice in your work - it feels sincere and delicate
I love being read to as well.
Perfectly lovely Mel
awwwww I'm in love with this ahhh
Oh, wow. This is just stunning.
So so sweet and descriptive
Thank you! You know this blindie's all about the imagery. Thanks, too, for the !
Love the ending. So sweet.
Those last lines hit hard Mel. Very well done and heartwarming.
The last lines were what came to me first, oddly ... and I wrote it in secret Braille with a slate in this person's notebook ... let's see if he finds it. It means the world, Nic, that you enjoy this piece as you do.
You know what else is poetry? This, you beautiful poet, you! It's heartfelt and touching(see what I did there? ).