I have showered

I feel like a bride

My body is good

No mirrors in my room

No screens, no selfies, no scrolling

I sense myself and the world from the inside

I lie down naked on the bed

The linen is clean and fresh

 

I left the door unlocked

All doors are unlocked here

Anyone could come in

I still have a city boy’s fear

But these people and this place, I tell myself

It’s more peaceful here

This is my private room

A closet, a chamber, a cell

 

I’m lying uncovered

A warm evening

A light brush of air

Against my ass cheeks

Is someone here?

Still a little fear

 

Perhaps I should invite someone in

Be explicit

Him, only him

But how?

What’s his name?

What shall I call him?

 

Is he here?

Is it simply the air?

Wind through the window?

 

His hand on my shoulder

The lightest touch

This gentle weight

All burdens are gone

 

If I turned my head around now

I could see him face to face

Close

I could kiss him or

He could kiss me

We could kiss

But perhaps I’d find him gone

 

I shift carefully, only a little

I lie more on my side

I pull the duvet over me

And he is here

Along my back and legs

His arm around me

 

And against my hole?

Do I hope for a big dick?

A dick at all?

Do I fear it?

Do I know what I want?

He holds me

This is what I want

He whispers beloved

The words and touch so light

Yet he fills me completely

My body to the brim

 

An excerpt from the book Taste and See : A Queer Prayer by Vikram Kolmannskog, published here with permission. The book can be purchased from here