As a child I dabbled in ******
No barbie was safe from the hands of their god
Ran hills caked to the toe
Roughed terrain with neighborhood boys
They called me girl
But I felt boy
Upon later years I learned:
Dress
Skirt
Bra
Flower
Amenities accustomed to this body;
A bustling street of hormones without a
red light
Next were *******—
Wild & rambling, I soon
Mastered the art of shrinking
I kissed my first boy & felt it rattle through my bones
His hair an ocean in my hands as I rose up
to the surface
Later I discovered the shared experience of Woman,
Shifting about the world as a silly metaphor
Carved fingers into mace & metal
Ankles clinking busily on a subway platform
In learning to fight
The young boy dwindled into memory and
I couldn’t sense shape anymore
Fell in and out of love with woman and man alike,
Sinking deep into salt & sand
These days I can’t help but wonder if
attraction is a mode of defense
Or that of love
These days I run hills in heels
Caked to the toe in color
--
c
These days I try not to identify with a normative sexuality. I believe it is fluid and shouldn’t be contained with labels. I hope this poem is relatable to those that feel/have felt the same.
