Congratulations.
You’ve shown me
the least interesting thing
about yourself
first.
Not your laugh.
Not your kindness.
Not the way
you treat your mother,
your friends,
or the waiter.
Just…
that.
Pixelated.
Poorly framed.
Taken from an angle
that somehow flatters
absolutely nothing.
And now
you wait.
Like you’ve submitted
an application
for my admiration.
But here’s the thing—
desire
has never been born
from obligation.
And attraction
has never whispered,
“You know what would change my mind?
A surprise penis.”
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