In the province, The air is sweet and cool at night Brushing aside the acrid smell of The cigarettes that we smoked. You slept naked beside me, The sheets bunched up around your thighs And around your arms, Leaving your stomach exposed, The light just enough to show off The trail to a forest that hid in your briefs.
A love affair of the wrong kind – because,
Was there any other kind? – Took place that night As I pushed my arms closer to yours, Comforted that I could later on say It was sleep.
And when you did not budge, I squirmed and moved my body closer to you, Grunting and sighing as a little boy does in his sleep. but though I was far from asleep I was dreaming, Of how your cool, soft flesh Would feel if I put a little more pressure A little more love. And with whatever false courage That alcohol brings I placed my fingers on your stomach And as you continued in your stillness I dared to move it further down Through the thickets of cloth, skin, and hair In between your legs and body. I had already prepared the disgust That my face would register If you happen to wake up, As I feign surprise At finding my fingers where I placed them. but all you did as I continued to caress your growing and thickening self was face me in your sleep, eyes closed but wide aware. And when you could grown no longer and thicker, You removed my hands, And pushed my head down Slowly, letting my hair caress Yours neck, your chest, your belly Until finally, the reward of caressing my lips With the strands of rough hair That grew down below. My teeth hid themselves in between lips and tongue As I found you inside me And the pulsating warmth That kept exploring my mouth Was all that kept me silent As you breathed raggedly in and raggedly out. Under the pretense of sleep There is no need to warn me That you had come. Under the pretense of sleep, All I could do was let you drip Off the sides of my lips, Until your forest canopy Was smothered in pearly rains, Thick like honey, Salty like the sea.
And you pushed my head away, Turned on your back, and went back to sleep, Without ever having opened your eyes.
And this is where I knew what it means to be gay, Which is to say, What it means to be alone. I went to the bathroom And stroked myself While smelling my fingers That smelled of you. And when I came, You kissed me in the only place Where you could: My imagination.
And in the silence that we used To cover up our nocturnal liaisons, My first time Was reduced to a myth That reduced the both of us To strangers.