Out in the hall, a monk

was masturbating, having first discovered 

hunger. The guests arrived

in silk robes. It was all like music 

for a wedding, pools glistening 

with baijiu and peach 

blossoms. The garden rustling 

while it blazed. Shyly I licked 

the fuzzy underside. 

How boyish the evening felt. 

The wet pit I held in my hand.