I like it when I take my glasses off
When the world around me becomes hazy
For there’s a kind of beauty in the mist
Something precious about imperfection
I like the escape from the harsh, blunt world
Lines so visibly drawn and too precise
Where we police a division, distinct
Between the black and the white; there’s no grey
For when I retreat there’s a special calm
As shapes flow together in harmony
The tension is gone and they dance freely
Telling a story of shared acceptance
It is in the blurred lands that hearts unite
That judgment surrenders to human warmth
The rules don’t determine what’s right and wrong;
Instead the soul speaks, guided from above
Photographer: Robert Doisneau