God of Style

You wouldn’t have heard the story

because Odin would have disapproved,

Baldr died too soon afterward, and Freyr

was never one to leak secrets to strangers,

but when Freyr was sowing his oats,

before he settled down and married,

he had been struck by the beauty,

incomparable really, of Baldr

in the prime of his youth, and Baldr

on his part, being fresh, eager, and needy,

had found himself drawn to Freyr’s

impressively enormous equipment,

which he offered to polish

and then take inside.

 

So they hooked up and got busy,

comingling their divinity until they

erupted into an orgasm like—

well, there’s really no adequate

simile for the fusion of gods.

Since it happened in Asgard,

where the laws of human biology

didn’t apply and the miraculous

was merely routine, their union,

though short-lived, produced

a child, a son whom they called

Tofar and sent for safety’s sake

to live with Freyr’s compatriots,

the Vanir.

 

In later years, when both Baldr and his

accidental assassin, Hodr, were long dead,

and Freyr was well established in his fertile

heterosexual marriage to Gerdr,

rumours of Baldr’s resurrection

circulated widely, but Freyr knew

the truth, that the reappeared one

was not Baldr as supposed, but

Tofar, who had grown into

the image of his other father.

 

And whereas the same-sex thing

had been little more than a bit of

experimental pleasure for the fathers,

the son was gay for real, with a husband,

a golden ring, and nothing in the closet

but a fabulous wardrobe.

 

Copyright 2017

T. Allen Culpepper

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