Her eyes look like a conspiracy.
 She beheld mine with sympathy 
that waitress near the bar. 
And her eyes looked with pity, knowingly 
and no words passed between our lips. 

Sometimes these days I hold a gaze often too long.
 Odd creature, I, who reads the sullen songs 
in the wells of others eyes 
and watching for those also who read the messages
 hidden and divine. 

Published by Silent Singer

The Silent Singer

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