Sanctified Dust
naked in my rawest form held by hands of trust earned simple questions along the way each offering me control not asked once asked many times slowly assuring it's okay to change my answer whenever without shame judgment or consequence a simple stop even hesitation will do held
Being Her
every clock tick is a first tick never to happen just so some ticks echo sweetly returning as a lover tracing my toes intertwining with my fingers sweeping up my body lingering warmly breathing again as a new experience in my bundle of sweet clock ticks this one stands out
Love Unwoven
give him a another chance the enabler said give me a second chance when I am dead
Nightmind
what's that like waking when I tap you on the shoulder with my typing, to then fall back asleep instantly after speaking? That’s a beautiful way to ask it. It feels a little like this: I am resting in a deep, open quiet, a place without pressure,
Sanctified Dust
a virgin is pure by the virtue spoken from the mouths of old men eyes hungry always feeding with blinking teeth you are pure by a different virtue born into the bonfire of patriarchy forged in the brinepath of tears raised by wolves in suits lived abuses painted as a
Being Her
for our contemporary dance performance I wore my white leotard tucked more convincingly taped more securely all us ladies danced with balloons music and costumes from UP the night ending gracefully while driving in street lights I did not notice something I had been living with it all my life
Being Her
she has only known me as HER my sweet lady friend twelve years older smiles without judgement but instinctively calls me HE is this because? I've had an IV dangling from my pelvis dripping shaping deepening snipping letters from me _ _ M A N and now when she hears
Sanctified Dust
she pointed this out— the mother of our children the one true Church let us know Satan made the name Mormon please use the real name she asks I ask her please use my real gender systematically she demonstrates corporations are the real people
Being Her
while telling me I’m being fake a man boasted he honors his wife by insisting she needn’t fuss with makeup thankfully, he was wearing pants resisting the urge to go fully natural
Being Her
when you ask me to share my journey the discovery of myself what is your motive? underneath are you mentally gatekeeping? asking is she a SHE? so I may verify what details should I know about your conception?
Love Unwoven
after walking together for twenty-eight years our paths unraveled one year’s distance, I see we always walked with separate eyes in quietness I question are we traveling to a destination or dancing to a song? when someone enters should we press our fingers together bend in rhythm spin away
The Edge of Circles
it’s not my space anymore asked to leave because I’m me a woman with transgender history as I go my print-less steps beat in my broken heart