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Title: An Open-Ended Triangle
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Rating: PG
Length: 334 words
Content notes: A three-voice poem, between Xander, Buffy and Angel. Written for [community profile] fan_flashworks, challenge: Triangle.
Author notes: I just read the most amazing epic poem for someone (supposed to be beta'ing it, but I was too struck by it to do more than enjoy) and finally got inspiration for this prompt.
Summary: Xander looks at Buffy, who looks at Angel, but none of them get the one they want.


Brown eyes look to hazel,
Look to brown,
But they are not mine.
An open-ended triangle,
And this is the most unstable thing
That could happen.
No base, no bar
To prop the legs apart,
And we fall.
And who do we take with up?

The one with the Angel’s face,
Angel of my dreams, though not
An Angel in his heart.
Whispers, sighs of regret,
Of history as sour as anything
You could name,
Yet I want him, want
All that he is,
Or that I think he is.
That I dream him to be.

Big eyes, hazel and hopeful,
And they gaze at me
Like I am the Knight of her dreams,
But I’m not.
I’m no knight, no saviour,
That’s him, that’s her.
And I look at her and see
The worship of one of His angels,
But I’m not,
Nor ever will be.

Brown eyes look to hazel,
And I see what she does not,
What I wish I didn’t:
I see his love,
Adoration, misplaced, for I would have it,
I would make great things
Of a man’s heart
Entrusted to mine
Evermore.


He thinks I do not see,
Glances, fleeting,
Sliding over to dark eyes, and back
Before he thinks I might notice.
Why this obsession, I don’t know
I don’t understand, and maybe
That’s the thing.
He doesn’t understand why,
Why flesh so weak still stands
When it should have fallen already.


Her paragon stands and glares,
Though he obviously thinks
I’m too slow to see his warning,
Brown eyes piercing my brown.
He maps my form,
Judging, condemning,
But I know I’m weak,
Know I’m smaller, nothing
To compare.
No paladin am I.

He does not know,
Does not see
And neither does she.


He does not know
Does not see,
He is nothing to me.


He does not know,
Does not see,
I am nothing to see.

And I want

I want

I want


The one thing,
The one
That will not look
At me.

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Miss E

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