Maybe brief, perhaps longer
but in this moment I am She.
It’s fluid, isn’t it? To decide
upon being Her, rather than
the prolonged Masculine----
that’s not to say I won’t be Him again.

This is liquid consideration,
rolling down my neck, my
collarbone, breast, navel----
It was so obvious when I felt it
like a switch-flip, dynamite ignite----
Boom. He is She. I am She.

Now name me, for I am born
unto this magnificence---- A body,
a mind---- Mine. His. Ours.
Stronger than any,
mightier than all.

Breathe me life for I am valid----
in this moment, we are goddess.
I am Now.

Gender is such a fun game, Isn't it?

I remember as a kid I would play Wizard101 and in the beginning before creating a new

Character, you must establish if you were a

Boy.. Or a Girl.

I had one female wizard, and one boy wizard and in my mind, that was okay until

I showed my heavily religious grandparent the game.

She asked me why there was one boy character, and one girl character.

I told her it was my friends and she smiled, as if she were relieved.

The next sentence that spilled from her old ancient lips made me almost cry.

She smoothed her khakis and said

I was afraid you would say that they were both you, because you should only have a girl character.

And no, Oma, it was not my friend's character because in my mind, I wanted to be that boy character.

In my mind, I  wanted to be that female character as well.

When I was Thirteen, I got a plaid shirt for Christmas. I put it on and my friends said

It made me look like a lesbian.

And only one of my friends said it looked good on me.

At that time, I was declaring myself "bisexual" finding both girls and guys

to be very attractive.

My favourite viner was a neutrois and I thought this was normal.

In fact, I wanted to cut my hair short  and wear guy-ish clothes for a longtime.

So many people have told me that I must identify as "boy" or "male"

Or ****, even "girl" and "female"

Well guess what.

I'm worth more than a ******* "Other" button.

So are other people.

People, humans.

That's what we are, isn't it?

10/3/2014

at high noon, and
i think, high tide
She looked up at the shy pisces sun, which is never brilliant,
tripped over a brick, traced her long shadow on the sidewalk
with her finger in the air
and i had to remind her I was standing right behind.
she'd say "right, that you are" I was tempted to
add that I wasn't quite sure about that.

I noticed our shadows were contorted, stretched
like papyrus,
I was remembering how she'd announce at times with no
order: "I am happy" or "I'm sad" while watching T.V.
or walking down the lane.
But now she didn't quite seem to say much.

And I was always asking "Amy you happy? Amy you sad?
Amy you OK? Amy you fine?" Amy you ok? Amy you ok? Amy you ok? Going well? Fine?
It was like that

we held hands in a modern art museum is how we met
"It's a good picture," she had noted of "My Grandparents, My Parents and Me".
I had looked sidelong to its neighbor, a picture of a trashcan
trying to desperately scream about some societal ill
lost in translation forever.

I had already given up when she had given me a 'goodday'
I didn't care about seeing her anymore
but it still hurt.

My name? Jane. Bryant Jane. Born a man
or at least Earth Planet tells me my parts belong to a boy, whatever that is.
In second grade kids teased me and I went by my middle name
as a form of protest against them.

Looking back, I was feeding them.
Or was i starving them?

I read once the name Jane is considered bad luck
in English royal life
I entertained this just as I did my taut masculinity
this 'girl' Amy found it cute. but

remember how i had ended up asking for her opinion on everything in the end?
because she would not say it on her own volition?