I think I want a pool. Rectangle. Surrounded by concrete. With a powder blue paint job, and edgeless lip, and a long, diving plank. And in the corner, by a fern and a spa (that is set aside, in a dark part, almost like a grotto), I want a Verginer man. Wearing goggles, all silent and still and cool, but with his little splice of colour, and looking over the still water, like a protector, as I lie in the sun. Hot concrete against cheek and the quietness of alone, and a closed eye red tint.




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