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 cam for free.

​Sam (Pomona '23) is an English major and a poet who digitally goes to school in Claremont, CA.