Richard, 29, Deerstalker, Vermont

tops to Tchaikovsky in poorly lit classrooms.

Photos of him and rotten apples.

Photos of him among bully crows.

Like Narcissus, he watches himself in puddles,

talking as he holds his throat.

His family crest,

two swords crossing on a field of navy,

tattooed across his back.

What he wouldn’t give to hear him say

Yes, Please, Yes,

against his cheek

In Latin.

Down to Fuck, in Latin. Deorsum—

What he wouldn’t give to give

yearning his mirror

and have it watch

him watch him

feast on

white sapiosexuals only.