Men Who Help Me

Another man I trust
listened to my story,
he’d been burdened with before,
loved my mind,
told me how to be something else

I said “I am not defective”
He submitted, and
tried to collapse himself.  

Without ill intention,
we teach young people-
prisms of feminine ears devour tenderness,
masculinity mouths spat characters
in the distorted mirrors of a fun house.

My other man
Didn’t always know what he knows  
about himself.
He listens,
like a woman

The world didn’t trust his unfolding
right away
Wasn’t born with the right body to fix me
He stopped adapting
My best man,
Being the man he’s always been
He knows me too.