He keeps staring at me
Like an old man
 At the horizon...

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Archived in my Heart: Love Poems



What’s She Thinking?

He keeps staring at me

Like an old man

At the horizon,

Like a child

At the television,

Like I would.

I wonder if he knows

What color my eyes reflect.

He looks deep, but what

Does he see?

Would he love me on days I feel

Anger towards all men?

Or when my hair kills me?

Or when I’m sad rain fell on a Tuesday?

Would he understand when I tell him

How much hate I have for my best friend?

Or how I have to cancel our night

To comfort her?

Maybe he only sees my surface,

Dreaming of inside. What counts

To most men is not what I feel—

I need passion (mindless), directed

My way as those stares are.

I need love I can feel in his hands

The moment before he touches me.

I need more than he has,

I think.