Love Poems Poem by aya l

there is something
so soft
about
the movements
of a stranger.

that peculiar familiarity
that washes over you
as you watch him
put pen to paper
with slender,
graceful fingers,
rhythmically,
incessantly
tapping his feet away.

that suspended
brush
of hair
away from his cheeks
the furthest
thing
from a question.

and yet,
when the gentle curve
of his lashes
angles closer to you
for just a second,
he leaves
you
waiting
for an answer.