He kept stealing glances
all day. I saw the corner of his eye glances out of the corners of mine while I was supposed to be driving
. Sometimes I full looked over to see what the reaction would be, most of the time it was a spreading what are you smiling about
smile. I counted the miles. Fifty. Ninety. One hundred thirty. Tried to memorize what it felt like so that there would be more for later, take it all apart and put it back together again. That is how I learn. Patient
and slow observing, throwing out little bits to see what happens.
He was jealous when the clerk
flirted with me. I was buying batteries and asking directions with a smooth glaze of banter on top, he must have been scrutinizing the face opposite mine
more carefully than I had been. Maybe it was just a better vantage point that let him see too much or more than was really there. Gave himself away by trying to joke about it
on the way to the car. Echoes in my head
\ I'm not even yours.
\ not even yours and you're already jealous
Smokey packed and mixing people. Count, check, seal and shake. Bake for two hours
then let cool for fifteen minutes. Packed together on the bench seat which ran along the wall talking past over and in between each other. Making stuttering shuffled breaks of conversation
with half or whole strangers, extracting chunks past present and dreams from each other hoping to build something. Or nothing. Or undo what was already done. Watching people out of the corner of my eyes
again, watching people watching me quietly. Watching them look away and back again.
This time you don't get away so easily stealing parts of my heart with your glances
, I locked eyes with Across the Room. Got a little too close to those maybes and could have beens, got a little scared, you broke our locked electric by looking at the ground
. Turned my head to next to me and he started to say but stopped short. Been watching where I was watching too, I knew better than to ask what he's holding back. I know your thoughts boy. Don't you know it echoes louder each time.
\ not yours not yours not yours
\ stop playing like you're mine
But I traced the angles of his face anyways, ran my fingertip along the sharp edge
where it falls off into noplace. That lasting acrid that stays a while after, reminding you shared perfect kisses in a long endless night.