Antique
Graceful Son of Pan!
Your head is crowned with little flowers
Your eyes, spinning sacred spheres
Your cheeks, stained with wine make room for
your glistening fangs.
Your chest is fit to play like a harp,
whose tones resound about
your blond arms.
Your heart beats where the Hermaphrodite sleeps.
Walking by night, and moving gently
your thigh, then the…