that after two years
i’d still be the same height?
tight man skins.
forgetting to stretch tendons
i shrugged my pelt in early spring
to coincide with walks
and forests and sticks and small things
that don’t fit into summer,
like a gentleman’s suit
like hunting deer (instead of love)
which is no easier.
i kiss them with my teeth and their antlers are brittle with fear.
i need their faces and fur to be a man again next year.