Same In The End

They'd come around
When we were still children
Children in college or children in high school
Or, when the mood was scandalous enough, when we were children in grade school
Newly pubescent and largely unaware of the perils or blisses of sex
Sex was never hotter than it was when we were kids
Not the act itself, because the act was much too large an idea to fathom
No, it was even a whisper of sex at age twelve that carried a larger impact than any encounter in our softer years

But now they come around
When you're older and softer and bored...and don't care
They love when you're listening but they love when they have to fight for your attention from tumblers filled with liquors and sparkling waters
They want for
They want for you to call them interesting
They want to for you to call them insightful, brooding, "with it"
...smart
They love when you call them smart
Especially when they are not

Sometimes you buy it
When you want to fuck them
Buying into it is really the only way
You nod, smile,

say:
"wow, you are so insightful"
"you are so smart"
"you are really with it, honey"


think:
that skin looks smooth
her tits are "with it"
this had better get me laid

It's all bullshit
Your nodding and smiling are as much bullshit as her ranting and raving
They play hard to get...but the seasoned stag in you knows she is not hard to get
On other nights maybe
But not tonight

Tonight it's all about the bang
"wow, I've never met anyone quite as sharp as you, babe"
But you have met sharper people
Hell, you've met sharper animals
But you nod and smile just the same while she rants and raves
Then you catch the sign
It's a smile
A flutter of the eyes
A touch on your arm
It's a sign that you catch
Like Plague, it hits you
It gives you that extra bit of confidence

It turns "impossible" to "likely"
Turns the smell of her skin to the taste of her skin
Turns  Conversation...to...Intercourse
You take her to bed
You have sex
You clean up
You get dressed
Soon enough, she's talking again
About the same bullshit as before
You hear but you're not listening
You hear "doesn't Tolstoy sound like the name of a cheese?"
You roll your eyes and offer to take her to breakfast
Maybe some food will stop the sound from coming out
Oh, well
You weren't listening before she took her pants off
And you weren't listening after she put them back on

It's hot.
I'll still take the sex over most others
But puberty now stares at me with sad eyes from so many years ago