I’ve admired your images on the internet,
seen your profile, followed your career.  With interest
a speculative e-mail I delivered fondly,
not too formal, not too long, crafted to be friendly.
You responded, a brief but kind request
For further information, and you sent your best
regards for my assistance, and then wished me well.
I can imagine you my virile French gazelle
Ex bike rider, herd member turned shepherd,
And imagine how you’d be in your manly hide,
legs bent lazily along linen bed sheets
long lean back curving cleanly, best of athletes.
I want your sprawling, careless relaxed body,
those sweetly muscled arms folded round me,
foreign lips murmuring sweet rien and l'amour
honey seeping from every tingling pore.
And I speculate over my next missive,
striving to keep our correspondence active
for the sake of furthering future fantasy,
nothing flirtatious and nothing saucy,
enough to savour this as possibility,
whilst retaining distance from reality.