Him
by David Heulfryn

 

He stood, feet apart slightly, facing the room
Face impassive, looking at no one in particular
Just at empty space

His damp dark blond hair hanging over his forehead
Not long enough to reach his warm green eyes
Long enough to teasingly run his fingers through

His face was still smooth
Signs of the downy hair that grew and seldom shaved.
Frozen and impervious to time

Bare torso punctuated by two pink nipples
Wiry blond hairs escaping from under his arms
Lost among faint wrinkles of his skin as his arms hung down by his sides

The line of his open shirt drawing your eyes to place he was exhibiting
The place I had seen twice a week in the showers for the past few years
Not the most well endowed boy in the class but proud of what time had given him

Dick hanging below a neat patch of light brown pubes
Balls drawn up tight from the cool air
An indelible vision

 

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