We Do Our Best Hellen Keller in the Spaces Between

I am painting
your face under
my eyelids
the crease of color
a braille my fingers
can’t speak.

 

You live there
between the lines
where definition
never touches you;
where most won’t
look for you.

 

You're layered
and covered in spindles
we all want to prick
our fingers on
to bleed life
for just one
solitary moment.

 

The vapor of your ideal
hovers over me constantly—
our connection
an ESP we never speak
of, but mouth in silent
air to not disturb
the ancients
from their slumber.

 

Aleathia Drehmer

Published by Mighty Mercury