He came to read. Two or three books

are open; historians and poets.

But he only read for ten minutes,

and gave them up. He is dozing

on the sofa. He is fully devoted to books—

but he is twenty-three years old, and he’s very handsome;

and this afternoon love passed

through his ideal flesh, his lips.

Through his flesh which is full of beauty

the heat of love passed;

without any silly shame for the form of the enjoyment …