LXXX

What can I say, Gellius, about why those rosy lips of yours

Whiten more than winter snow

When you leave your house at dawn and wake from

Perfect sleep in a summer day’s eighth hour?

Something’s up. Is the rumour true that

You suck a man’s bulging balls?

You bet it is. The ruptured testicles of poor Victor

Proclaim it – and your lips etched in drained semen.