your leonine eyes met mine
— we spoke from a distance.
A foreign instant
when faceless strangers
sharpen into focus
and gaze brazenly at each other
as if to say;
"What have I to fear?
you're the same as I,
human and alone."
An intimate moment
strikes desperate unease
into the beholder
and they quickly glance away
as if to say;
"That appraisal was accidental
what verity gleamed
will remain, arcane."
Our modest hearts, conscious
of the soul's diffidence,
its ineffability translatable
into the space of a gaze.
____________________________________________________________________
This silence now stretches. I now resort to the unutterable nature of silent things.
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