III: Heads

It's been so long since I loved a boy
I probably can't remember how,
but if you're patient, I'll recall my lust
and likely manage to love you now.

My flesh in spite of age is quickly willing
but the images with which my mind is filling
are from the limits of what I've known:
an ancient valley pristine in the morning sun
with light like water and innocence,
a dawn when the world awakens
and repents foregoing any love or pleasure.
O perfect boy, my slender treasure,
when I dip in the clear pool of your love
I ask, was Eve a woman?
I could have grown
from a single bone,
and why is it always a Robert that I love?