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words in pretence of conversation ;  thine eyes hard 
shut lest thou shouldst see thy lover move and 
perhaps (oh, worst of woes !), frighten him from 
thee ;  fearful, oh !  infinitely fearful lest he should 
not love thee after all, soft words (oh, the burning 
cheeks, the bitten lips !) whose hidden fire shall 
kindle the great blaze ?  How talk with thee, whose 
quickened hearing has not known him creep ever 
closer, yet afraid to touch thee, has not heard the 
rushing of his heart, the shortening of his 
breath ?  How talk, if thou have not felt one trem-
bling foot seed thine, one hand steal near thee and 
yet nearer ?  Till thou feel the tremor of his body ;  
till his hot breath stir thine hair !  Why, neither 
thou nor I can tell of that swift attack (is it a 
minute or an hour ?) when without word spoken 
the bonds of convention snap — hast thou seen a 
village, with its smug Swiss thieves, whelmed by 
the avalanche, the avalanche of elemental force, 
the avalanche of God ?  Nay, I remember noth-
ing ;  I know I found myself naked in his naked 
arms, his giant member still throbbing and beating 
in my flooded bowels, and the world was aswim 
before mine eyes. 
I tell thee, man, that the first kiss of man to man 
is more than the most elaborately manipulated or-
gasm that the most accomplished and most pas-
sionate courtesan can devise.  That is, it is not a 
physical,9 but a spiritual pleasure. 
I tell thee, as I walk the sunsmitten streets of 
Mandalay, where lives a boy I love, that the very 
foundation of the soul tremble as mine eyes fall 
upon him. 
I have never spoken to him ;  I doubt if I could 
command myself to speak to him.  Have I faced 
death in a hundred forms, and never winced, to 
fear (at last)10 the frown of a Nubian slave ?  Strange, 
friend monometallist !  But true !