[after Constantine Cavafy's poem, "Days Of 1909, '10, And '11"]
Two and a half time Alexei's age, you are, of
course, wiser in the ways of the world than
he is; just as your experience in the
intimacies of Love is, for now, far greater
than his---and to all that, he gladly defers.
Perhaps, had circumstances differed, and the
boy had not (through entirely random connections)
come to the attention of your fellow Christians,
Alexei might have followed a different destiny, a
boy-whore, offering his beautiful body (long-haired,
slender limbs, eyes possessed of a deep gaze, and a
smile capable of registering every nuance of sensual
pleasure, both given and received as you have very
happily learned these past few weeks). He is no
longer skittish; at night, after both of you have
become exhausted from pleasuring each other unto climax
(streaks on the sheets are more than enough proof that
old prudes' inhibitions and haters' prejudices are not
permitted to intrude in this house), he snuggles against
you, content to be surrounded by your embrace, to sleep in
unbroken peacefulness. Now, as morning's sun pours into
your villa, overlooking the glistening sea, he wanders
about the rooms---curious, appreciative, and comfortably
barefoot---as, within his core, another profuse load of
sweetness (fragrant, and flavorful exactly to your taste), is
quietly but effectively confecting---more than ready for you
tonight, as the stars rise, once more, over Misenum. And this
afternoon, too, will be important when, with the utmost
pride of a lover, and yet in the modesty only Faith can
bestow, you will present Alexei, as a new catechumen, to your
eldest friend in Misenum, Judah . . . Judah Ben-Hur.
Starward