Sexual Availability: a poem

Courtesy of Shayla Hickerson, Sexual Availability: Figmented, 2016

I am but a mist hanging behind the pull of your eyelids. A figment of your imagination melting in the eavesdrop after a chilling winter spent in yesterday’s embrace. The rotation of the record player started to match that of the rotation belonging to the roll of your eyes viewed in high definition from my front row seat, whilst the rate of my heart paused. The little dream you dreamt of me faded through translucent pixels as the melancholic melody was heard through a final, whispered vinyl revolution.

Sexual Availability: Part 1, 2018

A static echo fills the air as the vinyl continues its lifeless spin.
The music has stopped, but no one was around to hear it.
They walked away once the track had finished.
They got what they wanted,
and split.

The boy seemed to have like the atmosphere,
But he didn’t want to invest in caring (,) just for the record.
The needle digs in deep.
A cut appears, but no blood was drawn for your satisfaction.
Call it a hit and run.
Call it whatever you like.
Call it nothing at all.

Sexual Availability: Part 2 (2018)

I am nothing but a vinyl that continues its lifeless spin, even once the music has finished its song. You played me like a symphony, but didn’t desire the instrument it took to produce such works. I was discarded and left for storage once the desired applause had hushed.

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