My eyes narrow down the space in front of me
Everything I see is irrelevant, despite them being my view and vision

I cannot stop looking at you

You are the image at the corner of my eye
The exhibit displayed at the end of the hall
The voice that drowns out every ventilated word
The glance I catch looking at my side profile
Yet I assume it’s the pretty girl beside me you aim for

I want to see you

But you are just a back facing me
A tempting glimpse at the nape
A friendly smile
And a hand opening the door for the next

You are several glances at a time
Someone I can look at,
But someone I know, I can’t call mine

n.j.