He was as close as any man could be
We shared each other’s bodies and a bed
The journey was a magic mystery
I felt I was at home inside his head
And yet his heart it must have been removed
For I have never found the secret in
I know each inch of flesh both rough and smooth
It isn’t there beneath the sensual skin
My artless lover lives without a heart
His honesty and innocence so real
Placidity I noticed from the start
Unable to express his love or feel
My mirror man I think his every thought
Perhaps it was my own heart that I sought


Author: thepoetautist

A Gay poet of fifty odd years who is currently living in Cambodia.

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