Jessica Arteaga Poet Blank verse

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?

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