"The Braille Experience"

Just because a man lacks the use of his sight, doesn't mean he lacks vision.

Stevie Wonder said that.

I felt that.

Even though I may not be blind his words birthed an understanding that showed me a person's vision doesn't have to be manifested only by seeing something.

A person's vision also can be borne by touch.

The first time I saw her, her beauty was undeniable.

But the first time I touched her, it enhanced what I thought I saw in her.

We were emotionally entranced with each other before we embraced, but the day our fingers interlaced I was enraptured by what that epidermal contact had evoked.

The first time I touched her I wasn't just touching skin, I was decoding a soul.

My fingertips landed on the surface of her hands, like Neil Armstrong on the moon.

Instead of one small step for this man my hands took giant leaps up her arm, invaded the space of her back, and gravity pulled us in.

Each place my fingers traced was like a boot print in the sand. She was etched into the palms of my hands like memory.

Like meaning. Like Braille.

Where love is touched, not spoken or yelled.

I could be blindfolded like Birdbox and I'll still be able to break the barriers of that darkness and feel her benevolence.

Vision is not the ability to see with your eyes, vision is when you see with your heart.

Stevie Wonder said that.

I felt that.

Even though I may not be blind I didn't need eyes to know it was her. From the first page, my hands read truths my eyes hadn't learned yet.

She wasn't just a body my fingers flipped frantically over.

She was a language I was learning to read all over again and she let me read her like I'm the only one fluent in her kind of silence.

Learning a new language isn't an easy task but I accepted the challenge because I'm a Daredevil.

I'm no superhero, but my senses surpassed superhuman standards as her skin solicited promises that surmounted secular sight.

Our first interaction, was full of passion.

At the peak of day, in a public place,

we loved like the lights were out and all that mattered was the pulse beneath the silence of our touch.

But... I realized, if I was quiet enough,

I could hear her skin whispering secrets into my fingertips. So I listened like a man who had never heard truth before.

I thought of Helen Keller, because I was already blinded by love but I was struck mute by the deafening sound our hearts drummed when we were pressed chest to chest.

I'm impressed by the depths of this union.

I for sure didn't see this coming but just because a man lacks the use of his sight doesn't mean he lacks vision.

Stevie Wonder said that.

I felt that... literally.

Because even though I may not be blind my fingers read her like Braille,

each curve of her contour a confession,

bringing affirmation to the question,

of if I feel her, or not.