Wednesday, February 5, 2014

Collapsed

The change of light 
that flickers your shining eyes from amber 
to ink black
as you alter your gaze 
as you notice me staring,
thinking I've caught you in prolonged consideration,
and instead find that you are longing for the harbour
over my shoulder,
or aching for a moment of the waiter's time
to ask for the bill,
has travelled through urgent eons to arrive here and meet you, 
before discretely catching my attention
to describe something that has long ago been decided,
something anyone could see.