Stare not at her guileless eyes

Hosting a constellation, glittering

In inky pools full of grace

Trained firmly on your charmed face. 

Behind those demure dark lashes, 

However, and bitten lip and mellifluous laugh,

Gears are whirring, plans are stirring, 

Second sharp orbs are darting

Cautiously, even as

Those that captivate are averted 

Your fumbling, erroneous explanations 

Only appear to enthrall. 

Inwardly, she groans and sighs, 

She is aware of more than your all.

Smudged lines of sonnets plagiarised

On the backs of sweaty hands-

She rolls her eyes:

‘Shelley, not Shakespeare,’

While she giggles and “ah” s. 

Stare not at her dreamy gaze, 

Just turn around and walk away:

Nothing will she offer, and less will you gain;

Evaporate, if you hope to stay sane. 

Daily prompt: Aware