Refraction.

Gone As Soon As It Comes.

There are a number of things that I wish to say,
And yet I shy away at the possibility of rejection.
I just want to tell him that I see him,
That I care so tenderly, that I would hold him
If I were to have the chance,
And yet I'm not even sure what I'd say.
More than occasionally, when I meet his eye,
Words elude me even in mundane conversation.
How could I ever confess something like this?
How could I appeal to a man so clever
When I can barely speak to him?
I love him, I think -
I've caught myself using phrases that only he says,
And find myself constantly checking that he's alright;
He never quite is, but holds himself well.
You wouldn't see the cracks in his resolve
If you hadn't spent time considering the way that he smiles
Or memorising the way that he laughs -
For a man so humorous in himself, he laughs less often
Than one would think.
When he pretends to laugh, I can see it.
When he is truly amused, it's a brief little bark of a laugh
That's gone as soon as it comes.
His eyes shine in a different kind of way for a moment,
I'm sure that they do.
I'm just not sure of my next move.