If we were all blind perhaps the elastic axle of our ear drums would free wheel without caprice. We would sit in gorgeous harmony so many isms vanished with appearance - our sensual palate veered arc-wise. Free of colour prejudice we would detect the tingle of a rainbow in our fingertips, or the smell of honesty sweet as opium to our minds. This sight swiped world would swell - a rose's bud, to trespass our amygdalas with the certainty of a mushroom exploding upward to the light. We would listen soundwaves like secrets painting pictures of who people are, smelling their intentions, absorbing their themness and never for a moment caring if they were polkadotted, frilly, pale or wearing torn jeans.
This was belatedly written for Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie’s Wordle #235
Out of the Cave 
Ah, what to touch rainbows and smell honesty. When one sense wanes the others rise up to make for rich new experiences. Love the premise and the poem. Adding to my chap book.
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Ooh. Thank you. I feel very honoured. 💕
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I knew this would be a good one when you told me about it. You haven’t disappointed!
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Thank you! 😊
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