phases of the moon

he is 20 yrs old--lean, sexy,
big-dicked--
**
and when he watches himself
jerk off in front of
the bathroom mirror,
he likes what he sees,
his face a good face,
his chest a good chest,
and his fingers
move knowledgeably and
skillfully as they manipulate
his nice big cock, the
flared-out edges of the head
goose-bump textured,
and unabashedly fleshy, and
purple-pink.
**
when he watches himself
spurt cum,
his eyes flare wide open,
and little sparks seem to shoot
right out of them,
as he stands there
in the bathtub big-dicked
and panting, and
tingly all over.
**
then he closes the
shower curtain and
gets on with his shower:
**
when he climbs out,
the mirror is all fogged up,
and the reflected image
is now soft, muted, and wispy,
even his dazzling white smile,
just a dazzling white
blur, the head of his cock,
fuzzy pink, and delicately
shiny.
**
when he opens the bathroom door
to let the dry air come rushing in,
solid flesh appears once again,
and soon his teeth are sharp, gleaming,
and really sort of scary.

--Carl Miller Daniels (This poem also appears in my book Riot Act, published by Chiron Review Press in 2010.)