A Short Poem: A Gaze for a Gaze

Because when I’m walking on by,
and you’re trying to catch my eye,
I’m all shy
because I can’t help feeling stupid inside.

You look at me like you want it.
French, fondle, finger, fuck,
right here, you want it.

You’ve gazed at me,
with your sexual fee,
so I can’t help but be,
a little miffed you see.

Because when you’re looking at me,
you’re not looking at me.

you’re looking at a projection,
a pretty skewed perception,
some thing you crafted from your own detection.

And what you detect is this:
A woman who dresses for you,
looks pretty for you,
who exists with every last breath for you.

How wrong you are.

You see,
we’re a little more complex than that,
with our own brains and that.

All far prettier than you could ever comprehend,
on the ascend,
putting a stop to pretend,
trying to transcend
the trend
that you’ve penned us til the end.

So our ink is lipstick,
with smacks of slapstick,
an appropriate tool to unpick
the chick
you tricked us with.

Because we’ll never believe it,
but God knows you tried,
you had every media outlet on your side,

But you lost.

So when I’m walking on by,
and you’re trying to catch my eye,
I no longer feel,
a little stupid inside.

Instead I pity you,
and your one-dimensional view of the world.
Some underworld,
where we cannot be unfurled.

Because we’re pretty great you know,
we have brains you know,
a capacity to think and feel beyond our looks you know.

Until you see this,
you won’t ever see beauty.

Our beauty is a limitless dimension,
a point of contention,
one which suspends your meek inventions.

Look and ye shall find,
a mind
far closer aligned
with your own design.

We’re not so unalike,
you and me,
with our one chromosome difference.

But until you see,
we will forever be,
worlds and dimensions apart.


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