Art Gephyr

Why Am I Not Jealous?

Why am I not jealous?
I find the door ajar
Your lips upon her,
Bodies pressing the wall
Of a hotel hallway,
As spiked shoes drill
The cheap patterned carpet
A matching cheap colored love
Upon a voyeur's imagination

The morning after
Your hand timidly
Touches my shoulder,
You offer a plate of deviled eggs
Sliced ripe tomatoes
Accompanying purple cabbage
And the odd courtesy
Of an extra fork and knife
With no further acknowledgment
As none needed

Tell me in the awkward silence,
Did the clothes make the person?
Was the white faux fur
And sheer steel gray dress
Lost in a sea of alcohol,
Where love wanes
With low tide,
Exposing the barnacles
Of indifference and regret?

But these moments
Fail to stick upon you
In the absolute confusion
Of living by the present,
Unsustained by daydreams
Of hope in patience,
The enthusiastic purity of youth
Naive to other's intentions,
Or rather aware and uncaring

You are watching, waiting
Searching for my notice
Side-long I feel you
My mind is listening,
Focused and waking
Not as you want
But as I need