Cybersex SAM BOVARD
The neighbor’s Ring camera Observes my body through the window. I notice it after a shower, towel dropped, Parts exposed. A perversion, An invasion; a cyber-voyeur, Pupilless, peering in at me. For a moment, the urge to perform Sears down my spine, to harden, Bend over, give them something to look at. Once, when my body was less than it is And my mind was barely more than a child’s, I considered the webcam in my room, Considered the angles I would hold, The digital influence of the anonymous Men Who Tipped Well, money changed to Tokens changed to attention in the hole That I sunk into. Out somewhere in the Cloud, There are versions of me that are young And malleable, looking into the camera for The first time, responding to phantom desires Typed out in the comments section. I close the curtains instead, Because I don’t work for free.
50 • spring 2021
