Talk To Me Again

How is it that what you love
you do not study?
when i study your face without thinking
or the ship lanes in your hands
i study the wrinkles of your worry
and of your astonishment
fine is by a lifted eyebrow
and downturned lip when i ask
you hate when i ask
not fine is when your face remains blank
how is it you do not study what you love?
when i study the high arches of your feet and how it puts a swing into your walk
how your toes dusted with hair curl when you’re concentrating
and all you can say to me
to me
is
tell me