staring

still stuck.
i see you painting superglue
on the bottoms of my sneakers
(when “i’m not looking”
of course)

~ ~ ~

there was a poem in my heart
on the train coming home.
but no pen in hand,
it flew away.

it was about
eyes,
and the staring contests we
used to have, when you thought it was fun to
intimidate me. 

somehow,
a wide pair of eyes still made me
laugh without
reason,
and you stopped turning around
in class just to give me that stare of yours.

and thats when we started talking.

but your eyes were so green,
intensely wide and oh so many
shades,
with depth and breadth
and life.

smiling, we
are here, now, and i rest my head on your shoulder.

please,
i’m looking straight at you:
stare at me one more time…

(i want you to mean it.)