To Prufrock
Image Source: Freepik To Prufrock He sits across the table Staring deep into his coffee cup, Counting every stir of his spoon. I look at him as he focuses on his coffee, Considering. Deliberating. He is lean and fair, With honest eyes Lost in some otherworldly thought, His mind calculating some complexity. Something bothers him- Causing him to avert his eyes To his empty palms on his lap, or to the wall behind me. Something that causes him to look everywhere, But directly into my eyes And reveal truths that flicker just beneath; Something that unconsciously Brings him to run his fingers through his hair, As though wanting To hide a part of himself From wicked eyes that yearn to devour. What is it That makes you so digress? What is it That holds you back, The question dancing right at the tip of your tongue, Waiting to slip right out And exist in the silence before us? Desire stirs, yet dies unclaimed, I feel it, sharp, the pulse beneath, A heat suppressed, like embers low.