i want to start something -
pick up an instrument, a brush, a flash -
want to get this thing inside of me
                                                                                                                 out

sweet and sharp
a cluster of contradictions that
ebb  and   flow   smoothly
from one
e x t r e m e  t o    a   n   o   t   h   e   r

it
feels electric, burning, bright - like the stars
are under my skin
leaving me thrumming, aching
it ZINGS
Rings
Round and round my
head
heart
home

enveloping white silence
     stills
manic pattering thoughts
    gentles
erratic energy
          pulsing through
living, breathing
            electric wire connecting
                               You to I
our hands twined tight
as we watch the snow fall tonight

every night
our bodies curl like apostrophes
you
dream well
sleep sweet
i love you
me

back in the day
- which wasn't a tuesday, by the way -
but my glory days when i was supposedly on the right track
                                                           ­                 bursting with talent
                                                          ­                  full of potential
                               i was crazy
to think i could have gone somewhere on words alone
despite the incredible power they hold

the other night i had a realization that
the world sees only in
                                       black and white
i was filling out some "official government forms"
because the world runs on paperwork, paperwork, paperwork
they left me a space to fill out
             my gender
             my ***
my options were male or female
                               black or white
i don't want that because i'm not that
i am not black
i am not white
i am the grey space in between

i am proud of who i am
and want to shout it from the windows
and fill it out on my "official government forms"
that i fit in no simple category
that i am complicated -- a whole new beast
they want to claim and tame me
but won't name me the way i wish to be named
won't raise me
           look at me
           speak to me
                                 the way i know they should

they tell me that i am on one side or the other
when i walk in no man's land

i have to choose between the judgments
of an M or an F
when i am already fighting the stares and confused, questioning head tilts of strangers, family, friends because
i have found comfort in who i am
                        strength in my identity that defies the norms
and they still don't understand that
                                                        every day is a challenge
                                                        a new mountain to climb
because this world sees only in
                                        black and white

Sometimes I'm lying
When I'm saying, "I love you."
But really I'm not.

late night drinking with my mother
is like playing a game of chess
                   --Except she doesn't follow the rules
one would think
if you grow something in/outside of you
love would flourish
                  --Except she doesn't follow the rules
instead her pawns play referee
as the bishop preaches the carnal sins of man
while the rook towers overhead in silent judgment voiced only in shrill, angry cries
backed by a never-can-do-wrong queen of hearts - angry, bloated, red
                                                                                          like her wine
there are no turns
there is no board

just late night drinking with my mother
who plays by no rules

There was a game she didn't know
she was playing.
It was subtle - a game of trickery and silver tongues;
                                                                                             a magic trick.

In one hand and out the other.

Her moves were innocent,
made in the name of friendship and understanding.
A big heart,
                       a warm soul,
                                                an easy target.
The magician smiled - sharp and bright - and proceeded to saw her in half.

Parting is such sweet sorrow.

she stumbled, she bled, she tripped and she fell.
she didn't win the game -
                                                didn't even place.
She got distracted by the smooth talking wolf in a tuxedo and cape.

I'll huff and I'll puff and I'll blow your house down.

                                               Game over.
                                                 You Win.
                            She limps off stage and is forgotten.

This is the last time our two lips shall touch
The last time we share our essences, passing one to the other in gentle exhales
This is the last early morning I wake up to you
                Our last cup of coffee

I will stall this last conversation:
                  drawl and pause and share deep sighs
as we lean over the balcony staring at the snow falling on the mountain

It seems relevant that it is sunny as we share these final words

We've come full circle - our beginning so startlingly similar to this quiet, hopeful end.
I could say all the words of love/hate but
    shouldn't dare
    don't dare for all the things you've done for me

All I will say is

Adieu to you, my dear

i live for the moments
when i smell you in my clothes
                       and on my skin
they remind me of what happiness is