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