what're you lokin' at?

a small friend.

What're you lookin' at?

Where are you lost,
girl,
your eyes are frozen in a glazed,
mute gaze,
in which world are you intertwined?

Your skinny legs buckle
always like you're in a dream
over the parquet floor.

Long, black, gathered
back hair, decorated in
colorful pins,
and your stare is dead.

It's only natural to want to envelop
your body in fierce heat,
to impregnate your bones
with some liveliness.

Walk hand in hand
together on the sun bathed grass,
you run
like normal kids do.

Lie in the weeds
and look into the sky,
deep and blue...
It apears to be making you
feel good.

Only in silent, quiet moments,
your lax hand
grabs mine suddenly
you look alertly at me
and it's like you've heard
the joke I told
or saw the horse
in the photobook
or found a strand to grab on to-
but too soon, your eyes haze over again.