I was not sleeping, with my cheek
on the slabs of a bench
when I watched you walk by.
I was not close
but twenty feet
from the eyes of your head, and you looked up
to be a pale, almost sickly sight that most others would turn from,
and you made a glance at me as clear as ice.
It was oily ice
from your oily eyes sticking to mine,
like ears being told what it is being said.
“don’t listen with your ears, but your heart.
don’t see with your eyes but your ears.
think with a head that could never be dead
and be weary of what’s fallen from your fears,”
and you didn’t even open your mouth.
So I shed a few layers,
and I sat up to watch you go.
You turned right off into the trees.
Sophia Elizabeth Cox, USA