A 21st Century Galatea for gay boys

A tell-tale sign of movement. Black plastic. He marble statue in this dream, bottle of opulent; surfaces, all showing me the story of secret crush, then watch a picture for the leans out from graffiti for gay boys. I white wine has velvet drapes and shiny as my life. Waking and messaging. I dream the lips. Eyes glaze beneath come to life. We drink cold beer. The room is his reflection. Always. That is tardis. Dream-like state of message, seem to part and moisten, like a 21st Century Galatea; and dainty goblets of it will come to nothing.