.
All carving knives and tail-
ectomies aside, we pride
ourselves on
sight,
the fight
or
(see how they run)
flight instinct,
the way we think
ourselves sane,
the same.
We Braille our way
by stars, raised
particles of light spent,
rent by
sigh
-lence
and
the quiet desperation
of the game.
..
Prompted by Poetic Asides.
Whimsygizmo's Blog 
“We Braille our way / by stars” my favorite part. And also tail-ectomies. A wonderful poem!
Brilliant, just, brilliant
“”the way we think
ourselves sane”
Well isn’t that powerful? I tend to think myself [into being] insane. What I’m trying to say is that I interpret your meaning as being that we think so hard, we end up being sane. As if we could reason it all out. I don’t think so. Of course, sometimes we are the only ones who think we are sane.
This is beautiful:
“We Braille our way
by stars, raised
particles of light”
Thanks, ya’ll. 🙂