Perception Poem by Rashida Mack

Gasping,
for the sightless quality out there,
that I need,
streaming through each of two inflatable balloons,
in tandem,
they beat,
with my heart,
life sustained,
colored in scents sour or sweet,
I breathe.

My lips part,
dry, pried open as the Tupperware lid is pulled from it's lid,
Juice is what I need,
and welcomed flesh,
dancing across each bud,
taste.

Pulsating vibrations ring,
to my ear,
funneled,
coiling,
slithering,
and striking the drum,
beating in rounds,
I hear.

Turned upside down,
that image there,
speaks,
that is me,
in front,
back,
above,
or below,
colors spin,
stacking layers of light,
I see.

Touched,
the hairs upon my skin,
bristle in the light breeze,
brushed and tread,
they move,
I feel.

*www.Goldenphant.com