To J

I’m by the pool, immersed
in the blue memory
of the sea. And he is there,
in shorts, half hidden in the beach umbrella,
the sun has drawn sensual lines
upon his chest—
It’s a land unexplored, a legend
unread, an erotic joke
to be cracked open by witty tongues.
A beautiful man
worthy of a verse or two.
He doesn’t see me.

With a leap
he descends into the water,
as if into a mirror dignified
by a face.

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