The Closed Window

I always catch you looking. I pretend not to notice and you pretend you don’t know I’m ignoring you. Later, you’ll try and catch my eye. At this point, you aren’t even trying to keep your gaze a secret. I’ll look in every direction you aren’t; into everyone’s eyes but yours. Your pride will keep you from showing this phases you.

I know the difference. I can detect the slight sag in your shoulders, the sad look in your eyes.

When I look at you, finally, I’m caught.

This time, you don’t look back.