A secret accord,
a gentleman’s agreement was worked out between
my mouth and the cock of an 18 year old fisherman although
it is stilled tucked away in his blue shorts.
Time air and the landscape around him
Were dimming stretched out on the sand
But I could detect between his limbs
The spread limbs of his legs was shuddering
The sand retained his footprints but registered the
Heft and weight of a penis excited by
The troubling evening heat
Every grain go lighter

When the sun illumes the heather
oWhat is loving you? I am afraid to see this water spill
between my poor fingers. I don’t dare swallow you.
My mouth holds the shape of a vain column.
Lightly it descends in an autumn fog.
I arrive in love like one enters the water.
Palms forward, blinded, my sobs held back
swell with air, your presence in myself
and your presence is heavy, eternal.
I love you.

(from the wisdom of the magnificent man who was Jean Genet, probably best known in more recent times for his beautiful film, Un Chant D’amour, he was also a thief, vagabond, prostitute, novelist, playwright, poet, essayist, and political activist)


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