Art Gephyr

So Cold

These damn games
A pathetic sport
For the immature and insecure
Collecting people like trophies
Carcasses to be removed at will
Compared for exoticness
Both beauty and fetish extremes
Who has done the most
Who has licked the most
Has spread the most
Swallowed the most
Penetrated the most
Been penetrated by the most
In the most craziest contortions
With the most toys, cameras, audiences
Such a display of admiration
And envy

Shaming the virgin
Mocking the regular
Ridiculing the honest
There is no safe place
Damned for doing by the righteous
Damned for not doing enough
By the other righteous

That's how it fell apart
With the inconsequential
With the missing experience
Of sex on a beach
You judged me inferior
About the desiccating power of salt
The irritating grit of sand
The pleasurable lift of a lifeguard stand
The knowing gesture she gave at the party
That turned you on
That provoked the tipping point
For you to leave
For that "emergency cigarette"
For that call to the elevator
To seduce you down
And disappear into the night

There is a distance
A cool aloofness
A formalism about work and study
A lack of specificity
About me and my life
To the point that I'm
No longer certain you remember
My name you've forgotten
My face you've erased
My presence you've ignored
Unimportant details of an
Unimportant stranger
Yet another casualty
In that banal battle
You dub "War of Sexes"
As if you alone have been burned
By that "X" who married another

It's not that I was
Expecting our time to mean so much
But rather I wasn't expecting
It to mean so little
To you
That's what hurts
The inhumanity
So go back to
Collecting your collection
Wink to your buddies, pointing
"Been there, done that"
As you place a check mark
Next to this cunt