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Is it a Belly of Muscles I see shaping underneath that turtleneck? |
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I never ever dreamt having the rusty trunk of a car against my Backside... |
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That's poison for my piles, the street is glimmering, 'cause it had rained all |
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night. |
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Please, do not think that I don't appreciate your generous Offer of a Ride... |
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home. |
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I am curious now, how many pirouettes can a straight Man like you spin, |
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until his Compass-points all begin to blur, and his Needle finally gives in? |
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Am I expected now to do my best and try to catch you when you fall? |
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But you're a heavy Guy and like this we'll only end up lying on the floor. |
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Look, what the Rain has done, |
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snow-white has scattered her Mirrors like petals on the Ground. |
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So I sense a one-eyed Serpend |
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rising slowly now from behind this old thundering Cloud? |
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Was it a trick of the Evening-star, |
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or had I been blinded by the passing lights, |
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Could it be that I really saw myself reflected in his green-grey Eyes? |
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It's hard to waltz precissely when his towering stature casts its Shadow all |
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over me. |
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But since he's leading now (anyway), I might just as well step onto his feet... |
