I have longed for the Pagan I saw
Clothed in Corduroy and calm;
A pentacle around his Adam’s apple.
Burnt skin and his dishevelled hair,
A saucerful of Mediterranean fetishes
Like charred charcuterie and
Cosmopolitan affection.
Telegram desires and postcards,
Souvenirs and sex as conquests
In the cobbled streets;
Backpacking and brazen modesty
Like Bombay and bicycles
Adulterating my Amsterdam dreams.
Trespassing and jaywalking,
Reeking of infidelity on
A somber summer noon;
Candles and Combiflam
To cure the cold of the
Snow-capped bedside escaper.
Seas mirroring the sky’s blue
And his eyes mirroring the green
Of my jealous pair;
Stretch marks like seawaves,
Cheap wine and cheese to the rescue
For the ones who dare not to bare
Their bodies and their care
In distant, traversed affairs.
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