PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

[After Thomas Mann's novella, Death In Venice]

You became his boyfriend after winter's glaze.

Summer, now; did I hear his words amiss---

"Shoes don't belong on sand as fine as this"?

His shoes and shirt came off with alacrity.

He wandered on the shoreline casually,

far from the prejudice of hatery.

Over his blonde hair plays a gentle breeze

and brings his sensitive nipples erect.

His baggy dress slacks evidence effect

of a long history---cuffs' several frays.

Watching his footsteps, a new thought occurred

regarding what I first thought I had heard

and here transcribe---a version more correct:

"Shoes don't belong on socks as sheer as these."

Coerulescent