In her peripheral
there is nothing.
Like a blind mans fingers
his eyes felt over her.

 

Silently she quarrels
"don't look down in the dust,
see him".
Half stretched out,
uncertain words surge
across minds.

 

Is this what it's like
to gaze at another's
thoughts, when all
is made dim
by comparison?

 

A raised head,
such a small gesture
moves the air
between them.