As a nervous teenage boy

I submitted the flesh

on my neck for you to place

your tongue against the pulse

of lingering, anxious excitement

and you my dear would kiss me gently

through dreams passing by

the agony of lazy summer days

of dying school memories.

Now when I think back, jumping in time

to the delicious feeling of being wanted,

being practised upon by calm

and relaxed women of the same

age and desires,

I thank my own personal deity

that I was brought up by