Ode to the Person Staring

When you look, What do you see? Do you think I’m cute, Or strange, Or intimidating? Should I consider myself Fortunate That you don’t speak? Am I a thing To fear? To possess? To hurt? To love?

I have seen you In all countries All bodies Wearing so many faces That you all seem the same

Eyes without words Without meaning Except those I hear In my mind’s eye