©Kenneth Kessel

Like a callow adolescent
With pimples and winged scapula
Forced to parage his ungainliness
At a beach alive with TV sex replicas
I dare to walk before your eyes;
Fearing not your frowning intellect
And ignoring all measures of worldliness.
But if you will speak to me at all,
And speak with softness and warmth,
Then I will stop and worship.
Because it is your heart I want,
Your heart, your heart...