After hours of feeling
Antsy and fidgety in the lounge
She entered the room
Walked in hesitantly
Looking anywhere but at him
Acknowledging his offer to sit
With a glance towards
The crook of his elbow
Throughout their conversation
She got to know
The intimate details of
The whorls of wood
On the table between them
And every contour of her own nails
Which she knew very well anyways
And after she was done
Giving earnest answers
To the bookcase behind him
He wouldn't say she could go
She waited
And he seemed to wait as well
And when the wait gre unbearable
She looked at him
"When you talk to someone"
He said
"Look at their face"
(After which she developed a manner
Of looking people straight in the eye
- the very centre of the iris, exactly-
And disconcerting them within five seconds.
But that is a story for another day)
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