The art of eye contact

You know what I’m talking about

You know what both of us want

I smile at the look of you

I smile knowing the idea of you

I know what I do to you

And just look then smile

While I catch your eyes

your body weakens

Along mine

Just by the eye contact across the room

Knowing I’ll have you soon.

the very first time i looked up to the sky,
it was dark, and it was scary— still, i tried.
the world was so cruel, and my mind was in chaos
but someone told me, “it’ll be the most brilliant darkness in our eyes”

darkness has never felt this comforting before
so warm, it feels like home. so accepting it feels like a hug.
since then, i never took my eyes off darkness
because i know, it’ll be the most brilliant in our eyes.

Little betta fish,
swimming around in its aquarium.
I peer into the
depths. Lose myself.

I listlessly observe her for hours,
watching her beautiful fins flare.
She remains unbothered,
going about her usual business.

As I am locked in my room,
and she is locked in hers,
I consider her as my best friend.
We’ve spent a lot of time together.

I wish I could
touch her or talk to her
and tell her how much I appreciate her presence,
but I don’t think she would understand.

Although we stare at each other for hours
through the glass panes separating our two worlds
of air and water,
I feel lonely.

I’m terrified for the day
when my only friend
lies belly-up on the water surface.
Will the loneliness drown me too?

waiting for death
like a cat
that will jump on the
bed

I am so very sorry for
my wife

she will see this
stiff
white
body
shake it once, then
maybe
again

"Hank!"

Hank won't
answer.

it's not my death that
worries me, it's my wife
left with this
pile of
nothing.

I want to
let her know
though
that all the nights
sleeping
beside her

even the useless
arguments
were things
ever splendid

and the hard
words
I ever feared to
say
can now be
said:

I love
you.