I bumped into Vesper today.
A girl my age, who entertains herself
by dancing in the lily patches.
She twirls dizzily and her blonde
hair follows.
Vesper is a beautiful girl;
but I suspect that I don't truly know
what beauty is.
I suspect I'm too young to know.
I'm too young to "like" girls.
And I don't.
Not yet.
Vesper is not angry when I bump into hrt.
But she asks why my steps are so wary;
why I'm slightly clumsy.
I tell her about my blindness, and she
understands.
I don't feel like explaining to her how I can still
see her soft face and blonde hair.
In still pictures that cross my mind like a memory might pass any others,
I see the world around me.
It's a gift that other blind might not
have.
I call it my Blind Sight.
1076, Dey 4, 7th hour
