Submissions by AlecBell

Gay? Your eyes enquire, devouring me.
I feel how your lechery slides
into the spaces between my thighs.
 
Gay? I’m available certainly.
My flesh, untenanted, is up for hire,
warm flesh, flicker of hope,
slaked desire. Me, the commodity,
you, the buyer.
 
Beneath brassbound Eros
our bargain has been sealed.
Our climactic cries will sound
as hollow as his brazen eyes.

I showed him how
easily beauty and desire
could be traded, how
grubby fingers and minds
could convert pleasures,
that might have been
freely shared, into commodities.
Fantasy and gratification
readily degraded, intimacies
exposed in virtuality.
 
I told him how our
intangible merchandise
needed no shop front, no
actual location. After the
digital capture, the commerce
need only be virtual, confined to
the purchaser’s hungry,
need-infested mind.
Consummation in fantasy,
payment in reality.
 
And that...

I remember that you called me,
on our first meeting, sweet.
 
And, while feeling embarrassed,
I felt also replete with an odd
 
satisfaction, as though an incomplete
circuit had connected. I glowered
 
at you, as I felt compelled to do,
yet, child that I am, I swelled with
 
unexpected pride. That’s what did it.
I sat in your car, juggling my poses,
 
making sure you could see how little
all your attention was affecting me.
 
“No doubt the world supposes
I’ve just bought you to decorate my car
 
“It’s only...