The poem
He came to read. Two or three books are open; historians and poets. But he only read for ten minutes, and gave them up. He is dozing on the sofa. He is fully devoted to books -- but he is twenty-three years old, and he's very handsome; and this afternoon love passed through his ideal flesh, his lips. Through his flesh which is full of beauty the heat of love passed; without any silly shame for the form of the enjoyment.....