Rome: a Metrophilia

From my book Metrophilias

Rome

A group of rich men convened together. They lay on couches arranged around low tables. They drank and they ate.

“My wife has got herself a lover,” one man said. “An ex-gladiator. An Egyptian with powerful shanks.”

“My wife’s lover is a poet.”

“Mine has a Greek slave who she keeps perfumed.”

“The lover of my wife,” a certain wealthy merchant by the name of Labrax said, “is kept in a pool on our courtyard.”

“Charming.”

“It is an octopus, with eight muscular arms, each one designed for love.”

“Well,  a happy wife means a happy husband,” said a certain senator, rolling a grape languidly between his plump fingers.

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