Blink

Artwork by Catherine Cha.

The mark of vulnerability is a sneer. Her upturned

                nose. A pointed chin.

 

A hand slammed hard, against a desk. Or the throb

                of a forehead vein, clear in a crowded

                room.

 

The mark of vulnerability is a scathing taunt, the

                imperceptible flex of an arm.

                Narrowed eyes. A very quiet exhale.

 

The quizzical tilt of a head so easy. Almost

                rehearsed.

 

The older I get, the more I look

                when the days slip by like rain on the outside of a

                glass window.

 

that the white grip of knuckles on a suitcase handle

 

or the fixed gaze in a subway car, angry like a glare.

 

are just more and more instances of deer trapped in

                headlights.

 

Trying not to blink.