he him his    never happens




so, i'm sitting here now--not quite blatantly staring at him. 

not outwardly coveting his worship, 

his gaze, 

his own personal home-brew brand of validation. yes, i'm sitting here looking

"pensive" or "introspective"or something approaching that, i don't know. 

but, something that silently screams a resounding beta-level harmonic, telepathic hum  

that bounces off the bricks of buildings  

like bat radar or bad college campus techno musi--it sings out "leave me alone." 

they think...well, "he's content where he is. 

"he's thinking something tangible to him & you have no right to access that." 

& the big metal doors to my psyche swing shut to passersby.  

for right now, "his world" they'll think "revolves around him. let him have that." 

but if he knew.  

does he know? that low level humming that he barely hears,  

that annoys & flirts with the inner workings of his ears--does he realize thatıs me? 
 
those ripples in the waves of his perception--that's me. 
 
that is every blood cell, every nerve from crown to thigh to tip of erect cock--that's me  

saying "come closer." 

does he dare? will he dare?  

do i gage him by all i know & say that,  

yes, he has the audacity to interrupt me & engage me in conversation.  

to even inquire as to what i am scribbling about here in this bound notebook?  

so that then i can say...i don't know,  

	something like "nothing" or maybe "i'm sorry, i'm busy." 

or better yet, "i can't talk right now. why don't we get together some other time?" 

successful deflection. 

who am i kidding?  

he doesn't hear it.  

he won't say it. he doesnıt care enough to see it.  

for this moment, his world revolves around him.  

let him have that. 

yes, let him have that. 

• Chy Ryan Spain

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