I took an aimless walk down here, here in a
Green World, wandering pointless as
this day, suspended between May
and June. I can see, under your shirt,
your angular shoulders, about to bloom wide,
and I want so much to
lay my hands on them-- your manhood.
A year or two.
I know I should be looking for
sun-hardened fruit, so I smile
and see you wonder just before
I turn away
