Two sleepers at night lying close together as they sleep,
One with an arm slanting down across and
below the waist of the other.
The body of my love- the body of the woman I love-
the body of the man- the body of the earth.
The curious roamer, the hand,
roaming all over the body- the bashful withdrawing
of flesh where the fingers soothingly pause and
edge themselves.
Arms and hands of love- lips of love-
phallic thumbs of love- breasts of love-
bellies press'd and glues together with love.
Love thoughts, love-juice, love odor, love yielding.
That gripes the full-grown lady flower,
curves upon her with amorous firm legs,
he takes his will of her and
hold himself tremulous and
tight until she is satisfied.
Only privileged feelers may be intimate
where they please.
Earth of chaste love-
life that is only life after love.
The pule punding through palms and
trembling encircling fingers-
the young man all color'd red, ashamed, angry;
The souse upon me of my love the sea,
as I lie willing and naked.
The consequent meanness of me
should I skulk or find myself indecent.
Pluck'd at random from myself.
The like of the same I feel-
the like of the same in others.
The mystic amorous night-
the young man that wakes, deep at night,
the hot hand seeking to repress what would
master him.
This poem, drooping shy and unseen,
that I always carry,
and that all men carry.
The boys longings, the glow and pressure
as he confides to me
he was only dreaming.
Note: This poem was taken from walt whitmans..."Spontaneous Me" poem and i took parts out to put them together.
