and teasing my bones
and licking my guts
and carrying boxes with tongues
and treaties
and writers
and i’m not one of them
so i use their toothpaste
and color in their lines
and reek of their habits
until i’m drowning
and slicing confidence
until it’s my own
until we’re clipping the wasted metals
toasting the broken boats
you see men carrying boxes
and you wish you were one of them
so 10,000 soldiers tape your insides
and pin your faults on the paper donkey
and sit on dirty cement with failure
and you wish you could eat it
and understand it
but instead you suffocate it
and fit it in your box
where the decibels are tugging
and you’re walking back inside your mother
because no one is looking
so you laugh with uncertainties
and trudge oblivious
because sidewalk waiting and horse nose training
and the one who always gets away with it
does
and then you’re worth pig hearts
and duck toes
and panda thighs
so you scribble on elbows
singing lullabies to triangle beads
until curls become strollers
strollers that carry shoelaces
that carry stolen orgasms
and broken heels
like tomboys and toasters
like dressers and cufflinks
because everything they do goes unnoticed
elegantly