Looking at You

You sit quietly so well:
your hands don't fidget,
your lips do not tremble.

If it were not for your eyes,
your large, overwhelming eyes,
I would not know you were
crying.


I wrote the above but I do not like the above. Mainly because it ends with 'crying' - I wish I had found another way to say it, but right now am not keen to find another way, am lazy - and I just want to get this on paper before it disappears like other lines in my head. Lines like:
"I like to stare at dead things." I'm going to try to put that in a story. A story that has another line like "Then why do you keep our pictures still?"