When you look at me, do it from the side.
A quick glance, from the corner of your eye
will do, better if you turn perpendicular,
your left shoulder pointed in my direction.
This slicing glimpse will catch me as I
am, that shimmer of me-ness that exists
in secret, slips around the couch edge,
over the threshold between rooms, melts
into seams of wallpaper, hides in the crack
of the door before you lean into it so it clicks
shut. I am the there that is not
there when you look at me.
From: https://thirdwednesdaymagazine.org/category/poetry/
Date: 2022
By: Becky Boling (19??- )
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