Blinded

There’s an old urban myth I know

Apparently, if you looks through a telescope at the sun

It blinds you.

Someone told me that when I was little,

And like many things one hears at a young age,

It became truth whether or not it is factual.

Sometimes, on days when the sun rises like a balloon

 that someone trusted a toddler to hold on to,

not knowing kids believe in the liberty of yellow latex,

and want nothing more than proof that things can fly,

I steal glances at the sun.

And when I look away, the sun is still printed on my vision.

So I think

If it’s true

That the sun doesn’t steal your sight if you look at it

It is simply so beautiful that looking at it so closely

Means your eyes will never want to see again.

It makes me think about you.

How after I hold your hand my fingers seem to stop working

Almost like ten digits are protesting

Telling me that they’ve found a home.

Or how food tastes like ashes in the wake of your lips

And my lungs are sanctioning oxygen since breathing you in.

And how my feet have a mind of their own,

and I can’t walk anywhere without first taking a few steps towards wherever you are

I’m not saying I’ve gone blind since looking in your eyes

But I’m saying I have found a movie I never want to stop watching there

I’m not saying I’ve gone blind since playing connect the dots with the constellations of your freckles,

But, I’m saying I’ve found a game that I will always win

I haven’t gone deaf since I heard you laugh

But I’m saying I’ve found a song with a melody that always changes and unfamiliar lyrics that I want to learn

I’m saying that ever since I saw you light up

I’ve been watching

Because I believe in the liberty of yellow latex

And proof that things can fly

And every since I started stealing glances at you

You’ve been imprinted on my eyes.