Love is not blind, how can that be?
When it opens your eyes and gifts you
The boon of seeing the extraordinary in the mundane
The ripple in the puddle is the echo of a heartbeat
The bone-dry orangy-red leaves cartwheeling in the fall air is a sweet kiss
The fluffy white clouds wondering in their lethargic grace
Are dreams above your head
The crack in the wall is a flaw in him you accept without a blink
The humid summer air is a soft lingering caress
The blank book is your love story to be written
The blooming flower is the passion burning from within.
If this is what being blind in love is
Then I shall embrace this darkness with open arms
With my eyes widely closed
For those of you amongst the incurably curious, I’ve never been in love only in infatuation, haha