i remember the men

who were

sitting in dark corners

gnawing on the bones

of our efforts

judging our worth

on waist/dress size

tone/softness

of skin

length/shine

of  hair

tricks performed in

kitchen/bedroom

on sink/on knees

at tables filled

with impressive

culinary beauty

the men

who were

liars

addicts

fathers who abandoned

humans who never

understood

the fabric within

as we were

reduced to miming

our acts of love

forced to hide

art in the oven’s

gas

as we stripped

naked

standing on cliffs

we saw our names

 in greek symbols

calling from

the  rocks below

thankfully

ignoring each

beckoning

and call