And Remember: He's A Pulitzer Prize Winner

Brother, sister, child and pet, do I mean the taut glory of the outer thigh? Do I mean the curves where it’s all streamline and suggestion, where the promise is the faintest vapor on the air? Do I mean a neck? Take it from me, brother, necks are okay. Oh, and what about that meadowlike expanse across the back, from the shoulder line down, with its muscular tides, its shallows, its occasional pools of limpid viscosity.