Crying is for plain women. Pretty women go shopping.
― Oscar Wilde

There are no good
synonyms for soft.
We don’t want to be subtle
or restrained. We want
to press our fingers
into a pillow of skin.
We don’t want veiled boys
or ill-defined glam.
We don’t want faint glam
but we might enjoy fluid boys.
Thin foundation
but also thick if you know
what I mean.
It sounds paradoxical
because it is. A soft boy
is smearing himself
on a mirror. Try to pick
natural colors like brown
and pink. But not natural
you know? Natural like
possible. This is not supposed to be
a natural look. That is for
another day. A soft boy
is made of chalk.
Smudges easily.
Not especially useful
for anything a boy
might usually be useful for.
Some soft boys
don’t even have dick.
What’s the point then?
Light eyelashes.
Yes, false ones. That’s where
the glam comes from.
No loud glam.
We are pretty women.
Not like that movie
I haven’t seen.
Real pretty women
with a million
hard boys to open doors
for us. A nude lip
to let them know
in the end
what you want.

 

Robin Gow is the author of OUR LADY OF PERPETUAL DEGENERACY (Tolsun Books 2020) and the chapbook HONEYSUCKLE (Finishing Line Press 2019). Their poetry has recently been published in POETRY, New Delta Review, and Roanoke Review. They is a graduate student and professor at Adelphi University pursing an MFA in Creative Writing. They is the Editor at Large for Village of Crickets and Social Media Coordinator for Oyster River Pages.