PAUL’S PHOTOS || Kane

A 23-year-old artist. He’s moved from a small coastal town to San Francisco and is full of the apprehension and bravura of the young man ready to test his mettle in the City.

I was impressed with the ring. As it turns out, it was a parting gift from his lover with whom he broke up in order to pursue his art in SF.

While I was taking this snapshot I noticed and mentioned the small patch of dried semen on his cock. He wasn’t at all embarrassed or surprised. “I masturbate when I’m nervous. I was nervous before coming here.”

When athletes come in to be photographed, they take care to look their best in each pose.  With Kane there was a wonderful ease, a lack of care for what the camera saw of him.  His posture was always natural and relaxed, perfectly sensual and present.

Deeply intelligent, absolutely playful and creative. I got on the ground, looked up and said “Pretend you’re going to piss on me.” He laughed and said “Great idea!” And there was a wonderful extended moment of “stand-off” where I think neither of us really knew whether he’d piss on me or not.

Unfortunately, he didn’t.

I finally noticed that he had no tattoos. I told him that he was likely the only gay man in San Francisco with no tattoos. He shrugged and said that he was planning on getting just one, a poem by Walt Whitman. So many young men I’ve met with poetry etched on their skin!

I asked what poem he meant and he recited it for me. It was very brief. I asked him later to write it down for me. Here it is:

I am indifferent to my own songs. I am to go with

him I love, and he is to

go with me.

It is to be enough for each

of us that we are together.

We never separate again.

– PAUL MORRIS