Plucked

They're getting plucked all around me;
Spinsters, ripe - soft to the side
Will there be fruits left when...
My rod grows long enough?

MY MALENESS

I look upon my maleness,
that little prick -
disenchanted from simple definition.
I detest the tale,
nor admire
its lack of depth -
The maleness
I dream of,
dominates.
Velvet valor aplenty,
loneliness cowed by fear -
The maleness of a man,
not of a boy.
One which ripens as the moon wane.