Not raised in locker rooms,
he sees his first cocks
at the museum,
marble hardons a sudden
revelation to him.
At least
they look like hardons, he thinks,
feel like hardons later
when he imagines
how they feel. This, of course,
is how all art lovers
are born: in private
& for private reasons. When
he takes his first
sculpting class,
he learns to soften clay
in his hand. When
he closes his eyes,
it feels just
like
skin.