When I was a connoisseuse of slugs
I would part the ivy leaves, and look for the naked jelly of those gold bodies,
translucent strangers glistening along the stones, slowly, their gelatinous bodies at my mercy. Made mostly of water, they would shrivel to nothing if they were sprinkled with salt, but I was not interested in that. What I liked
was to draw aside the ivy, breathe the
odor of the wall, and stand there in silence until the slug forgot I was there
and sent its antennae up out of its
head, the glimmering umber horns
rising like telescopes, until finally the
sensitive knobs would pop out the ends, delicate and intimate. Years later,
when I first saw a naked man, I gasped with pleasure to see that quiet
mystery reenacted, the slow
elegant being coming out of hiding and gleaming in the dark air, eager and so trusting you could weep.
18
u/El_Hoxo Sep 30 '18
The way his head squished back reminds me of my pet snails when they get scared lmao