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Sixth sense

“...[H]ow happy your little Helen was when her teacher explained to her that the best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen nor even touched, but just felt in the heart.”
    ~ Helen Keller, in a letter to Phillips Brooks (1891)

If all you know came to you through five senses,
Through smell or hearing, vision, taste or touch,
And all the means beyond these were pretenses,
Your knowledge then would sure be missing much.

How would you know I’m lying should I tell you
That one and one make three? Why would you care
If heads I won and tails you lost? I’d sell you
Some bridge; you’d never feel the deal’s unfair.

How would you know you found someone appealing,
Or someone else who rather put you off?
What cause could leave you angry, drunk & reeling,
Compelled, or wishing very much to cough?

How would you know you’re being thrust in motion,
Revolving, falling, hanging upside-down,
The lift of surfing shoreward on the ocean,
The humor at the antics of a clown?

How would you know you’re hungry, thirsty, restless,
At peak performance, sickly, just struck dumb,
Or at orgasm’s edge, that moment breathless
When there can be no doubt you’re bound to come?

Then in that moment, can that special someone
By whom you’re being taken all the way
Not know this stillpoint, having brought to come one
Whose hot embrace more close than words can say
Brooks tremors as you dream it, far away?

    July 2017

Thanks always returns

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