Boy I'd seen before

On the coldest night of the year Thin ice cracking in his bones He stood again at my door Dressed in the body of a man. "Not you again!" I cried. The wind wept on the roof slipped a cold hand down the wall To make a fist of my heart. "Is this all there is to life?" I said. Standing erect at the top Of the stairs that fall slowly Into a garden falling Into winter. The beautiful are born to be statues Have statues lifted up to them. Shall I stay? (behind where it is warm) Or follow into the cold kingdom Where cold stones stand on my left And it is colder on my right. Alone beside you While I wrap you with words Silence shall make me dumb That speaks of everything but love. Into the Nile I fell worshipping My Lord my god. The green waters Surrounded my head - I swallowed small fish in the cool depths By the shore of Antinopolis. Raised up by love I was Condemned forever to shine In the icy darkness. Now the river may rise For my beloved. I shall see No more suns of Egypt. You were farting slightly As we drove through The vineyards on either side Of the road. "Is this all there is to love?" I asked. All you heard was the wind in the pine trees Nothing more. Is this all there is to love? I said to the radio hissing by your knees. A star shines in the vast darkness And whispers et in Arcadia ego. Bones at the bottom of the river Dancing bones that the river knows Cold kisses are better than no kisses at all. (That's a lie I told myself often.) Lips like a rose before The bloom. Thighs like the trees That roses grow on. Soft skin would soothe a rough caress Flower of manhood. You graced your shorts with youthful vigour Was I not to look? Not a glance At the swelling root of your male beauty Silently magnificent? Could I steal nothing From your beauty? Was it all Yours? Nothing was mine? But you answer like the wind in the grass Up on the high hills "I have nothing to say - And may give you nothing at last". You are wrong bright star of my lust You have given me dust And the children of dust Dance before me down to The end of days. O Oriens, splendor lucis ætérnæ, et sol iustítæ: veni, et illúmina sedéntes in ténebris et umbra mortis.