Oxford Boy – A Love Poem

Oxford boy, dear oxford boy,
Walked in before my shower
Watched with careful glower
Looking strong and rather dower.

Oxford boy, dear oxford boy,
From far off warm Brazil,
Whose tongue speaks so gentile,
English, portuguese, more still.

Oxford boy, dear oxford boy,
Who showed me all around,
That hairy, downstream mound,
Near castle Norman’s found.

Oxford boy, oh oxford boy,
Who never did kiss me,
Even though I stood before him,
Naked as can be.

Oxford boy, charming oxford boy,
Who greeted me so warm,
Who for one second, one fleeting second,
Looked like he might have drawn,
A pointed weapon,
From below,
That pulsed and throbbed and let me know,
I was with a man who’d show,
Just how far we both now could go,
On this special kind of midnight experience,
Evenings of coincidence and true carnal significance-

Alas his hand drew out a phone,
Laden with tinder requests, I couldn’t moan,
For each girl was pretty, it did seem,
Long hair,
Big eyes,
A special kind of dream,
And here was I,
Usually straight,
A penis most wouldn’t rate,
A penchant for self-hate,
A need to one day sate,
My life long lust without a mate.

If only he were slightly gay,
And I could maybe one day say,
I have a heart you just might like,
If this here bodies no delight,
And in your arms I won’t deny,
I’ll feel closer to the perfect sky,
And sun will shine down here on me,
While you and I live happily,
In Oxford, where we met.
Where I left my one regret.
Of seeing you, dear oxford boy.
Of knowing you, sweet oxford boy.
Of watching you, kind oxford boy.
And leaving it at that.

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