No, I don’t look back at you.

[joel]

I’ve set my face to wander wonders through—
through which you might engage me face-to-face
and buckle under strain to look me eye-
to-eye: to move united more than dance,
to love cohesive more than fuck— alas,
to merely lock your thoughts dead-on on me
in some chaotic space where neither you
nor I is central, yet in which for you
I can’t withhold all pure centrality.
Look, look me in my eyes. Dynamic pass
the deep near-blackness sworn by early glance;
enjoy my yellow-spangled browns like sky-
borne lights shone sleek on coffee mud, but brace
your joy to— No, I don’t look back at you.