2.73 feet

my eye is strained

the outer rim

can’t see beyond

2.73 feet

far is a stare close

that bores

and bores

monotonous and focused

it cuts

into my thoughts

do i feel

a clammy hand under

my spaghetti strap?

what’s broken

of me?

isn’t there a rule

to quell unbroken stares?

why should i twitch

like there was foreign breath

at the back of my neck?

shouldn’t one wait

for a welcome sign?

isn’t it rude

to barge into my orbit

without an invite?

a gaze unmet

should be scorched and shamed

from 2.73 feet away.

look away

and let me recall

my last thoughts.

About rashmenon

Hello there! Please look up- https://rashscribbles.wordpress.com/2011/02/27/hello-world/
This entry was posted in adult, define, marks on skin, poetry, woman and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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