While on a Trip to the General Conference of Seventh-day Adventists in Utrecht
The heat of Amsterdam’s July damp day
Swelled out in all directions like the young
Man’s body’s presence. What was on display
Was midnight leather. Underneath seemed stung
Male muscles swollen with venom for cash.
No other reason could explain why such
Uncomfortable flesh displayed in brash
Concupiscence would be in search of touch
And lust, why such unease might be endured
There in the boiling sunlight. “Have the time?”
He asked me as I passed. My soul demurred
As I imagined sweatiness like slime
Beneath the black. Desire felt castration.
“Yes,” I said, “but not the inclination.”