I've never seen that before. They talk about it all the time, I've read it in books, been guilty of writing it myself, all with the vague notion that I'm writing the unknown. An unknown falsehood of myth and lyric. It was inexperience-able, as far as I was able to see. You'd have to be exceptionally perceptive to notice a swift thing like that.

But I saw it, tonight.

Your eyes dilated.

I was across the room, you were speaking, and gauging on your choice of location I knew you hadn't seen me; I hoped you hadn't seen me.

I'm not sure how well I'd cope with the idea you knew my position and elected for another.

Your gaze alighted to mine, a mere circumstance, a mere surrounding scan, and it happened.

Your complexion changed. It looked like a match, a brief flare of light quickly muted to something of normalcy. You almost looked terrified, though your expression never changed. It was in that realization-that your mouth and brow were as set and determined as the moment before you saw me-that I came to understand what had taken place. It was your eyes that jumped, your eyes that flashed and expanded with the vivacity of fear. It was the briefest of moments, yes, but I watched it unfold, and though you looked away, not to look back, I knew it to be true.

Your eyes dilated.

There is nothing more invigorating than the knowledge that I interest you. For the first time in my pathetic, male-seeking life I have a solid structure on which to found my opinions. Even if you haven't fully cognitively embraced our probability together, your body isn't lying.

Your eyes dilated.

And for now, that's good enough for me.