Sylvie Hill

An Innocent By-Stander Not One-Night Standing.

I wish to retire now as a woman.
Hang up my hat, my hair and my vagina.
I never knew men to be so ridiculous
As of late – some experiences:

Why when I speak of a trip to the Caribbean
Do you say things about my south and nether-regions?
I know you fucked one of my students.
I don’t respect that, and I don’t take you serious.

Why when I sit with you in Parc Lafontaine
Do you hover over me this close like you’re going in for it?
We are strangers, I don’t know you; we never met
What signal did I give for you to try this?

Why when I seek out advice about construction
Do you make jokes about my bits and sexual functions?
I’m talking DeWalt drill driver not your cock up in this.
Maybe jerk it first before you talk to me on the Internet.

Why when I invite you over for a hang out
Is there a sly comment about eating me out?
There’s an apology after, fine, love – but are you drunk?
Stop this, pick up your guitar, and write it in a song.

And you – why the fuck would you think we’d connect?
You’re high all the time on another planet.
You with your books and all your experience in construction
COULD help me, but instead you flirt it up like an idiot.

I wish to retire now as a woman.
Hang up my hat, my hair and my vagina.
I always knew men to be such gentlemen:
In my past – some experiences:

The man who asked me out for meals before a kiss.
The man who said “I don’t want to be too forward, miss.”
The man who called me “Ms Hill,” says: “as you wish.”
The man who said “wow, I’m with Sylvie Hill.”

Those gorgeous, kind gents – laughed at, asked: “Are you fucking gay?”
To which one of them all would reply this way:
“No – I just don’t go fucking everything that moves
and I prefer looking at women not as objects but humans.”

They get “are you gay, man?” And I get this:
“Why are you so pent up about sex?”
How can fucking a stranger be anything but physical?
You’re such a waste of space and you are using people.

“Spontaneous and fun” some say they about this trend
Libertines and bohemians – how’s your herpes eruptions?
My sex is valued, beautiful and close.
With a man I love not some random bloke.

I can always tell a moron by the way they misinterpret:
“For someone obsessed with sex, it’s weird you don’t want it.”
To fucknuts like this, I recommend Lars Von Trier’s “Nymphomaniac”
Watch the four hours, watch it all the way to the end.

When Charlotte Gainsbourg blows the fucking guys’ head off
It’s a statement to all of you who assume a girl’s invitation
Is her sharing with you a story, a chocolate bar or smiling.
Is her saying she likes sex, loves touching, and physicality.

She never, ever said she wanted it with you.
You stupid, stupid fool. You are a tool.

In a world where we’re struggling to feel safe and happy
I wait to give this gift of me to a man who deserves it entirely.
And for women who give it more often and frequently
To random men, I do not judge as long as for you it’s fulfilling.

To me, fulfilling is connection and understanding.
Not you imposing your Jerk Bank thoughts on me –

An innocent bystander not one-night standing.

And yes I resent a man who is prudish in sexual insecurity.
And asexual hotties annoy the shit out of me.
A Lover who can’t stand naked in front of me and erect — or tired, flaccid
I have no time for, so go on, baby – show me, let me look, let’s get into this…

Sylvie Hill 2017