Your feet are bare; freed of your sandals
and my eyes fall to stares and glances
from their corners.
I want to look at you
directly.
I want to let my eyes
traverse the waves of light
that you exist as,
until all of you
has been
explored.

But this class is blood;
teachers speak of it,
and i can feel it misting the air,
choking out any pleasantries that i could express
that would warrant me
one,
maybe two
seconds
to drink you in.

A few seconds of sight
isn't much in a four week
summer class,
i think, though,
that after all this is over
those few seconds are all i will retain.