What are you staring at?
Could it be my dark skin paired with beige company beside me?
What about my countenance – is it that threatening to be remembered later?
What gives you the thrill to focus so long on what’s in front of you?
Pardon all of my questions – but you don’t seem to mind answering all of where your curiosity leads.
I don’t mind if you take a look but to follow with your wandering eyes seems a bit much.
You are concentrating so much with your stare – I can literally hear what you think!
All of the assumptions and judgments, they aren’t all pleasant.
I feel it and I can see where you’re going with this.
Therefore, I’m gonna give you something absurd.
A middle finger or a twisted face.
I’m not sure yet – but the more you look – you’ll notice.
Enough to get you talking to your family at the dinner table.
I can already hear you telling them about how you saw someone so peculiar.
It’s funny how in an instant someone can become the talk of the day.
I’ve become famous already through your concentrated stare.
How highly you must think of me. To offer me such consideration in your eyes.
So you like what you see?
Even if you don’t – subconsciously your curiosity is a bit deeper than you expect.
I feel the power of your eyes – it’s pulling me like the moon.
How full your eyes are – staring into all the deepest crevices of my movement.
Your eyes are doing all the talking and I’m convinced your mouth is too shy to speak.
Don’t be shy – there’s language that rhymes with staring.
It starts with a hello and ends at: What are you looking at?
Posted in: Poems, Prose, and Songs