Subtle is a smile,
under his tight upper lip,
that can't look at you too long,
because he might give himself away.
Then one day, out of the blue,
you pass him in the hall,
on your way out the door, leaving,
going home for the day.
And as you pass, right then,
you see a change, the corner lifts,
a half smile with his eyes,
directly on you, up and down.
He was telling you,
indirectly of course,
We are on the same page.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem