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Ganymede’s Dream of Rosalind Girlfriend, I am the boyfriend you never had—honeysuckle mouth, indigent eyes, no rough Barbary beard when kissing me. Popinjay, keep me in your little chest, nestle me in your cosy love hotel, my mouthful of tangy violets, my pumpkin raviolo, my spoon of crushed moonlight in June. On your breast let me sup, quaff the nectar of your sweet quim, trim repository of dear succulence. Only touch my cheek with your hand, and let us again meet as we did that first time inAct II, Scene IV when we ran away to the Forest ofArden. Rough sphinx, you know my heart, because it’s yours, too, and quartz, altogether transparent stone. I yearn for you as a crab craves the wet sand, a wildebeest the vast savannah, a toad every mudhole and mossy shelf. Forget Orlando. I’ll marry myself. 33 ...

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