One racquet-ball playing young man. At this
stage, a calculation. Pretending to

swathe my nakedness, fancying to be
as virile behind my Wall Street Journal.

Given its complexion, his body would
make a royal architect sing. Still, I

pause anonymously as possible.
Married, but muscular, willing a glance

to unite us, bathing side by side. To
follow one another, let our steps

be a dream of understanding, counting
on life together, surreptitiously.