His penis rises before him, a compulsion. He would take hormones if he
could. In his best dreams he is natural, puposeful, like a rising moon. He
begged his parole officer: please don't let me out again. But the
psychological report showed he was ready enough.
His penis swells like a bump on the head and it hurts just as much as water
on the knee. He's thrown away all his pornography and tries staying home
as much as he can. He follows his counselor's advice: when the violence gets
too much, he turns to another TV channel.
Things are tentative, though steady, until Christmas, when Barbie
commercials start to appear. He races to the toy store and yanks one of her
from the shelf as hard as he can. When she doesn't struggle, he mistakes this
for love. Suddenly he's doing things even he's never thought of.