Transition 3

Transition 3

Little pills
with my future inside
the soft self
I traced in the mirror
so young, too young
to feel my lack as my due
the way I was taught.

I once grew a beard
to hide my face
from myself
locked inside a man-
made fortress, sinking
beneath the rising tide.

I nearly drowned
trying to silence
some small, sad girl
who couldn’t even swim.

I plug my leaks
with ancient flagstones
gifted to me
by heroes dead&dying
who clawed them away
from the god of death Himself.

Thanks to them,
I will be beautiful
one bright day
my fissures patched with
medicine and magic.

What will it feel like
to look in the mirror
and see a beautiful temple
where my shipwreck once stood?

Forward #1

Forward #1

On GenreQueering

On GenreQueering