Your eyes flicker like candles in the dim light,
and a moment in your gaze is enough for the night.
You don't hold the attention, but you let it linger;
it rolls on your tongue and dangles from your finger.
I've already told you everything,
and I know what you said.
But every time I make you laugh,
I want to tell you again.
I watch you from across the room as you glide through the crowd.
Why do I always have to single you out?
I wrap myself up tight in my discontent
and know that this time is ill-spent.
Copyright 2010 by Dan Bach.