There are still men you
can't call men
Such boys of copper
wiring give light
In the way their legs so
long depart
Lengthy strides I mimic
in frenetic hope

There are still men you
can't call men
Like the way we easily
say of women "girls"
Bony, supple brunettes
taking orders
They hold gravity in the
hips for negative space

There are still men you
can't call men
& all my tides turn
toward their gaze
& all I need is endless
in the gap between us
At the station's end my
heart rolls off the
planks of their cheekbones

There are still men you
can't call men