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@ 27.055 MHz: Ad Astra; Some Centurion's Song To The Boy He Loved
Sweet, long-haired boy, refractoring (take all the time you need
to rest), recline in my embrace, and to my song give heed.
And be pleased, when it ends, to grant the boon it humbly begs:
that you accept this gift---stockings (sheer silk; from Kos brought here).
Draw them on to your lovely, small feet and smooth, slender legs.
Haters will not disturb you; not now: they know why, and fear.
Your beauty spurs their lust: in envious shame, they seek to mar
it, like the tale of apes that shake fists at a risen star.
Starward
