in my observations of you
i notice the way they look at you
they
these others
those who, were it not for you, i would crave for myself
the ones with soft hair cascading down their sharp shoulders
the ones with soft mouths veiling their sharp teeth
their shining eyes trace a path for their gentle hands to follow
their clever lips curl at the corners when yours do
the boldest of them touches you, something i could never do,
and the mark where she touches you sears into my vision like spite
while the lukewarm fingers of jealousy encircle my throat
i know there is nothing i can do
i can only watch them watch you
and watch you
and want you
i can't hope to be nearly as attractive as the rest of them, and i know i have no chance with you, but i can't help myself