You glanced at me today,
A single – sideways – glance—
When brittle words have long since crumbled away,
And your silence has sustained days,
Extended to months.
Extended to years –
How much a single glance can mean.
And how little.
Your glance is as accidental –
as the blade of a knife,
narrowly glancing off the side of a ripe red apple
to slice through flesh – to cut open blood,
Your glance is as casual –
As the flight of a ball thrown by thoughtless fingers,
Soaring into pale gray sky, a small, spinning sphere,
Veering from a straight pure line to ram into a window.
Your glance is as quick –
As the weasel’s white teeth,
Naked and bared as it crunches through scalp
To swallow its victim’s brains – fur, nerves, and all.
Your glance is as precious
As a thin needle glancing through my thin fabric,
Threading your color
Into my life.
I loved your glances like I loved you,
They were the only clear notes tinkling in the midst of silence,
When traveling clear and steady across the classroom
In one pure line, unwavering,
My heart followed the navigation of your glance,
And the course of your gaze mapped the course of my joy.
I read your glance now to search for disgust,
But I used to search glances to look for your love.
Every glance was a poem. Every glance was a flame.
It was your glances that made people tell me, you loved me.
It was your glances that make me love you, even now,
Your single – sideways – glance.