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Troy I'd love to walk across the public mall

among the hippies and happy couples

and men in business suits

with my arm around your beautiful waist.

That would be a memorable sight.

Except that I've done the same with others.

I'd be ashamed.

Michael, wake up! I'm

thirty today, and they've

turned on the heat in the

hotel for the first time

all winter! Psssst goes the

little radiator in the corner!

Cunning contrivance! So

utterly useful! It surprises

us, like a steaming silver

tulip in january. But the warmth

from you body is lovelier.

Grumpy hairdresser, it makes

me want to whisper pssst! in

your delicate ear. Don't mind

the rain falling in coils down

Larkin Street. I'm thirty

today. Overnight a forest of

blonde hair has spread upon my

pillow. At your side my penis

wobbles like a newborn fawn.


For people to see a man who loves men, and makes no bones about it

Is good, and I'd be willing.

But every month a different man?

That's my misfortune, not my will,

but the witnesses wouldn't know.

I've loved you each and every one, and well, I think.

But like a whore to parade the men I've had?

I refuse to wear you like a string of pearls!