You see him looking
the other way,
not yours, no
not where you want him to look
or his eyes would rest uneasily
on your rickety bones
He’s looking away,
that is true
forward or somewhere
not here, not with you
and it chips at you,
bit by bit by bit
but there is a sigh
with that look beyond- that is-
not with you
but for you
and you trust in it
in one wishful exhale
you trust him
you trust yourself too, you try
that his eyes might be seeing
more than you-
magnified in full-color
more than you
fortified for brandishing
more than just you
that his forward gaze
might be for you
and him too.
Or so you wish.
