Look Away

Stop looking
at me
looking at you;
it's annoying
not to see you
at a glance,
to voyeuristically
take you in
like a deer drinking water
at risk of being seen,
in the mile high club of being.

I notice
the cataclysmic dances
of your obelisque,
an emotional nakedness
that startles the dead
and rattles the rafters
of the museum.

The clatter
of your shoes
emotes a sound
of attentiveness
to the details.

I have seen
what a spell can do.

My curse is
that I am still
under it.

My strength is
that I am damned.

My torture is
that I don't care,
unless you want
to talk about it,
and then
I am a Greek tragedy
with a receding shelter,
and the sky is
shedding its fire
from the volcano
of your pain.

runningturtle87