Looking is like hunting or being hunted
the snares and wires between you and me;
all seeing is heated. It is force, desire and intent.
Just looking is a lie. One is always looking out,
looking for, looking around. The slightest glance
and a look returned witnessed by passersby
is a cavalcade of countenances.

Looking has appetite.
It feeds on crowds and parasites the self
looking in to imaginary plays of past
present and future.
The evanescent pleasure of looking
for the self in pornography and the shock
of finding it.
Seeing is more than navigating, a vision,
so intense, so full of longing, it can reach out
and create itself.
There is no such thing as just looking.