Parochial or Enlightened

I saw you naked.

I felt nothing.

For your nudity

was not new to me.

I have seen the clock work

in your mind.

Blind at first,

till another hand

tore back the curtains

in your bedroom.

I am hurting,

but it is too soon

to tell, is it just me, or is it real.

I saw you masturbating.

I felt nothing.

For you restrained.

An umbrella in the rain.

I have seen your teeth

grinding the metal,

all the sparks

hitting the ground

dead, echoing

without a sound.

But it is too soon

to tell, if it is just me, or it is real.

Does it matter

if it's me.

If it's real.

There is infinite

truth in what we feel.

I should tell you.

But you are not listening.

You never do.

So I'm leaving,

saying nothing,

like I always do.