Her feet wander towards him when she is asleep, leaving a trace of footprints in the sand.
When the sun vanishes and the world is wrapped in secrecy, she would lay her body next to his.
Whisper him all of her stories, her lips giving birth to butterflies, that are colored by the sound of her words.
They flutter in front of them for a while their wings illuminated by the stars above them, until the desert breeze carries them away,
again silence returns.
Her eyes set on the horizon, imagining faraway lands where people can hear the humming of the zephyr,
allowing it to stroke their ears with her tales.
Tales from her homeland, land of the blind.
A folk that doesn't believe in hymns sang by the wind nor in butterflies brought to life by the curve of lips.
She turns to kiss him, he awakens, looks at her and smiles because after all not all blind can't see.
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