Blind since the age of twenty-two, I’ve seen

Nothing but darkness, they say,

It is irreversible, so how is it

That I see your face in dreams?

In the seven years I spent with you,

Not once did I lay my eyes on you.

But when I close them, you are there,

So vivid, right beside me.

Your hair, strawberry blonde and thinning,

Reading glasses perched upon

A sloping nose, and the slight

Curve of your spine below your shoulders,

Beautiful blue eyes, the hands I held,

For all those years, rough and calloused,

A stark contrast to the soft lips,

I’ve kissed a thousand times.

They say it is impossible for the human brain

To make up a face, so I wonder

How you can appear in my dreams, unless the eyes

Of my heart remember you.