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the boy in the train
his face reflected
in windows, a young god
it's all him

multiform his silence
that errs my senses

his trembling mouth
must know the words
his restless eyes
must have seen
what I am looking for

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the young animal, the body
crooked over the handlebars
bluejeans, tight around
strong legs
his soft buttocks
each movement forceful
the blond boy's head
turns around
yes, i'm here,
faithfully i follow
ten, fifteen minutes
i'd give you a kingdom
ignore red
traffic lights
not losing you

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glistening mountains stately tower
the bushes whisper peace
sun basks a young stranger
the poet observes contently

gayly the boy whistles, sings,
his body smoothly moves,
far from all safety
he walks the barren fields

turbulent clouds gather
the terrain roughens grey
the poet virulently seeks for words
raises evil powers

heavy gas escapes earth
poison scratches and burns his skin
high pitched tones cut
deep in the boy's head

cruelly the poet watches
the boy's cramps and convulsions
the body losing shape
and silently welcoming death