your eyebrows furrow
it's something i've noticed you do when you are really focusing
or when you're extremely bored
the way your foot rhythmically taps as your legs are crossed
waiting for a proverbial bell to ring
even with a distant look there is still sharpness in your eyes
i've cut myself on them before
it is cliché to say it's like
i am in a museum and you are the marble sculpture stealing everyone's breath
a perfect amalgamation of anxiety and boredom
you occupy your hands on an ipad screen
i've never wished to be a catalyst for blue light more
i think i see two obelisks
one bent over the other
i see a side-view of two people who kiss with their arms
i see a metal flower that radiates warmth and laughs a sweet laugh
i see you in every card
every combination of dark, white, or color
i picture the various ways you have sat
the ways you focus
nobody knows what i see
let me just create a canvas out of thin air
i would cut a piece of myself to paint you on
as you sit
a good-looking insect dances
on your shoulders, trying to distract me
i see two bears high-five
after i show them the painting of you
a moth flies in and i see your maroon eyes on its wing
am i taking this test right?
i dont know, she might be all that i think about
the way our eyes meet when only we understand a reference
what's the point of the inkblots?
I can tell you exactly where she is etched
on my liver and singing in elysium fields