Boys

If boys could do the “pretty” thing
they’d be adorned with the finest rings
instead of one tying them to another.
They’d be allowed to play in their mothers’
skirts and gowns and dresses and jeweles
and then there’d be far fewer rules
of masculinity wearing them thin;
they’d wear frocks and heels and then they’d win.
Instead they’re trapped within themselves
and keep their desires high on shelves
to gather dust and rust and wither away
to the times when night comes from day.