my private catalogue of gestures,

entry noted: the way your eyes

flickered closed, accompanied by

this almost imperceptible brow

furrowing & a head shake, right-

to-left, barely a one degree rotation.

it’s a physical symptom of trying

to find the right words, maybe –

to rephrase something just said, to

recalibrate a position. was there

a slight blush of colour to the cheeks /

or was it the three point lighting?

a research issue i guess. but this

is my hill-indigo on the rocky outcrop:

one moment caught amongst

the otherwise empty riverside tract.

you are so beautiful it stifles my breathing.

repeatedly. here, as cataloguer i can

slow time to 1/100th speed, draw close

& whisper all the deleted things.

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