A Look

Is it a look? A fast sweep of skin, glistens by my peripherals My head turns to follow the movement of my eyes; blink A billboard, read it; Top Three: Shifty Legs (Paranoid, Impatient) Crossed Arms (Gated, Judgmental) long Hair (....Hair, long) A quick glimpse of a cover that has already lost a leaf ...did Dickens write you? blink A released grasp of commentary is descending into the usual chatter of consecutive thoughts. Trifling, trailing, timid thoughts. Thoughts that travel; trumpeting turrets, taunting, trembling, teased lips bit; not wanting to utter suggestion: Say hello. Say hello. Say hello. As my eyes return to the gaze of contemplation before and my head with it. Chin rested on a hand that has missed the lingerings of another hand. And here I sit Hushed by the world by the outer skin, for the innards are loud and scratching. And with the most nonessential feel to return to the distraction, as of schedule; I dart back a glance to find a glance mirrored back. ...Is It a look?