my taxing gaze

I saw a video on the hierarchies of women

Now I believe I’m at the bottom of the chain

And I ascribe a soul to bodies I‘d have sex with

Not the ones that circumvent my taxing gaze

Only they deserve to live

Who would consent to my command

Let the freedom loving few

Expect an ever-changing mood

I have an image of that thing

The thing I feel is being lost

There is no interpretation to be made

There is no diagnosis to be made

Do epidemics only hit you

when you fail to think of others?

is it based to hide your tears

behind a screen?