Artwork Sourced From Google. Artist: Unknown.
Braille
by Antonio Rocco S. (Rocco Valentini)
She's an ebony hourglass that walks the sand
In a white linen dress as sheer as her soul.
She whispers secrets to the waves,
Secrets washed away,
Along with the traces of her soles.
The cool of the ocean breeze
Gives her goosebumps
That rise on her skin like verses
And my hands long to read her body
As if it were a poem written in Braille.
⠗ ⠕ ⠉ ⠉ ⠕⠀⠧ ⠁ ⠇ ⠑ ⠝ ⠞ ⠊ ⠝ ⠊
Women with full figures
Hold deep truths
And sometimes the truth
Is too deep
For water that is shallow.
We exchange minds
As effortlessly as the wind
Trades grains of sand
And her smile is like aloe vera
For my sunburned soul.
⠗ ⠕ ⠉ ⠉ ⠕⠀⠧ ⠁ ⠇ ⠑ ⠝ ⠞ ⠊ ⠝ ⠊
Like the Queen of Sheba,
She questions my manhood
With a gaze as sharp as her wit,
Laying me down
On a dune by the shore.
The white linen dress
Now draped around her ankles
Is not a flag of surrender,
It is a banner,
And I kneel beneath it.
⠗ ⠕ ⠉ ⠉ ⠕⠀⠧ ⠁ ⠇ ⠑ ⠝ ⠞ ⠊ ⠝ ⠊
Beneath her, I tremble,
She steadies me with her hands,
Her voice,
Her weight.
Between exhausted sighs
And beads of sweat mingling with saltwater,
I come to the realization that I am hers.
I kiss her seal
And rise, not a king or prince,
But her devoted subject.
⠗ ⠕ ⠉ ⠉ ⠕⠀⠧ ⠁ ⠇ ⠑ ⠝ ⠞ ⠊ ⠝ ⠊
I move into her castle and discover the hallway
Lined with portraits of her former lovers.
Other men had clung to her flesh,
But never to her spirit.
They had been jesters in her court,
They had entertained her;
She had played with their bells,
They had entered her many times,
But their names were never written on her
As mine is, in Braille.
የእርስዋ እጅ ያውረዳል፤ የእርስዋም ልብ አይራራም
(Translation: Her hand may falter, but her heart does not waver.)
Footnote: ⠗ ⠕ ⠉ ⠉ ⠕⠀⠧ ⠁ ⠇ ⠑ ⠝ ⠞ ⠊ ⠝ ⠊ is Braille for Rocco Valentini.