Gray House By Cold Mountain

Imagine a chilly morning on Cold Mountain’s slope in China. A naked couple in lusty embrace thrash beside a steaming spring. One is a breathless male in midlife, nearly exhausted with effort. His partner, a young female, gasps and moans in the throws of orgasm. From the mouth of a cave, overlooking the spring, a gray poet looks on, dreamily amused-his pen stiffly aroused above a sheet of parchment. Behind him are the pages he jotted down in the early light before the couple wandered into his …