I stare at your face as if you are today’s puzzle of numbers.
I can’t read the signs so easily
I know the answers are all there but how to perceive them?
And what if my gaze becomes a glare and I hurt you?
Surely that intense stare is not the way to learn the face of the beloved
How to soften the eyes so they caress rather than sting?
On the train everyone is bowed over their newspaper or on their screen
They’re all trying to solve puzzles but who can solve the puzzle of human existence?
Who can give us a meaning for our lives?
Sometimes the gazelof another can be enlightening.
But we can’t stare into the faces on the other commuters so we stare at our puzzles instead hoping to learn something useful more than just to find out which numbers are missing.
Children do stare, when do they stop doing that?
Like when I walked into the living room with the Guardian and said to my mother in front of the visitors
What’s rape?
She never did tell me but after that we got the Times instead which seemed rather peculiar in our working class Street but who knows what the motives were?
The front page used to be full of ada.
Flats or rooms to rent
Sometimes holiday accommodation
It engrossed me
How my heart sings 