There is a look that women give; sometimes it is in the bus, when she's holding you as support. Sometimes, when she lies beside you, precariously playing with your hair, as you are sound asleep. Sometimes, just before she scurries away to make you dinner, or bring you tea. And sometimes, as you are making love to her, when all about you is silent.
It is a fleeting look, one which, should the careless ones of us blink, would be lost. It is a look that widens her eyes, and curves her lips. It is a look that can happen anywhere and anytime. It is a look that we all too often, fail to see.
'Why do you look at me that way?' He asked, facing up.
'Nothing,' she shrugged. 'You know - you're dangerous.'
'Dangerous?' He turned to her. 'How?'
'I can't say,' she said, putting back her bra; and her lips curved, her eyes widened. 'But you are.'
Yes, there is a look that women give and it says 'I love you.' But there is also a smile that some men give in return. It is a smile that broken men give when they cannot speak. Yes, it is a smile that says 'I wish, I could love you.'