Boys, Boys, Boys

—
2018

I want to wish boys to remain as gentle and cute and be a beautiful part of any team.

I love guys because of their shapes, voices, smell, and the way they move and take elegant poses. Also, guys can be very romantic, believe in myths and fall in love.

I realized it when at a club I was watching the dance floor. Uncontrolled movements, wet bodies and eyes looking down said more than any verbal communication. One boy sat next to me, hugged me by the shoulders, glitter was falling down from his fingers, he sighed and said "there's no happiness in life". Are you serious? With cheekbones and eyebrows and veins and armpits like this?... Boys are always influenced by two images that form their tastes: the father and the male whom you want to be. Sometimes one pushes the other into the background. In my case, the third was added to these two: with whom I want to be with? I'm fine with the fragile but defiant young men with features of androgyny. I mean myself. Or Arthur Rimbaud. When I was angry and wanted to shoot my ex, then I came across Rimbaud and his mad look amazed me, I imagined that he was my secret lover. I was seized by a sexual fever, a real religious revelation, an existential frisson from his poems. A fanatical religious teacher at my college condemned this love and I gripped his imaginary hand tightly and ran away from the lesson. Rêveur, j'en sentirai la fraîcheur à mes pieds.

That's how I felt the male hardness. I'm traveling now with this hardness from one bedroom to another, full of blackout shades and quilted quilts, not being able to stop talking about art and dicks.