I catch you casting
soft savouring gazes at my corner of the room,
sneaking them
between the static with abysmal stealth
I glance up
and our eyes stumble onto each other
like clumsy, nervous kisses
across the room
for the sixth time that day
But you make no move
to exchange so much as a word,
let alone a touch
[I know you would give these
as softly as your stares]
Maybe you would feel braver
if I did not operate with such skilled stealth,
and you caught me casting
sly savouring peeks from behind my hair.
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Comments
They both hide themselves, to the detriment of themselves.
But when you're young its not seen that way.
I can understand why he wouldn't approach you, if you were sneaky enough that he didn't know that you liked him back. But why didn't you approach him, if you knew that he liked you? Surely that would abate any fear of rejection. The nervous, fickle nature of childhood crushes is certainly a contrast with the desperation of single people nearing middle-age.
You like hiding behind the veil of your hair, don't you? Reminds me of Lirael, actually.
*I wish I could comment more on your other poems but I often find myself reading them more than once and not understand them. How does Cameron understands so easily, I ask you!?*
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