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