For the flat-chested comeback kid.
For the scanning eyes like a game
For the long eyelashes fallen on the floor.
For the bent back for what for what?
I am the strong breath and bright lungs
of something born into gender that shed off
like down feathers.
I became
I became
I became
out of a name and into a nothing.
And that nothing feels so good.
It is clear eyes and weightless clothing
it’s fogless mornings and chrystal stars that
fracture through nothing and nothing.
It is pure in wordlessness.
I hear my name now and it cuts through to
the rest of it all.


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