Watching

 

My eyes slide over arms and legs
and catch  a glimpse as
I don’t know I don’t know
stutters down the corridor 

 

I hear myself crushing the mystery
as the hotplates generate heat
to tabloid slogans

 

Somehow with enough time
we all get better

 

Remember charm
peacocking through
this cupboard

 

For now
charisma is caked on

 

I speak over
with a plea
spilling  
from my chair and
no one even sees 

 

I turn my head
for a second glimpse
apprehended by sweetness

 

Tomorrow I’ll bow out
to those young
loves