How Do You Tell Your Mother She Gave Birth to Something Like a Boy?
i.
Dear Mother,
i sit in the bathtub,
no water running
my brown body lacks breasts,
& can leave its uterus
behind
like socks at a laundromat.
i was afraid to shave my head, once,
but oh god
when i did…
i finally saw Father in myself
in this land, i do not mirror the curves & dips
found in nature
that makes things work.
(rather than being the peach) i want to eat it.
to be the force that pierces its way through
the divine feminine
crack me open
see the light s e e p
at the sight of a body
flattened to it’s essentials
ii.
And i say: (the leash is thicker here, & i like to be bound)
iii.
clean me out so i can stop vomiting my truth
alone
a figment
this is something you can’t comb through.
nappy wishes —
Mother,
i need to beat my chest
& howl…pop off like the gunshot i am
i creep on men & smell them,
thinking
what a wonder.
it feels so strange to hear my voice leave my body
not quite (woman)/(man)
more like the hum of a generator/the clearing of a
sore throat
i long for this life
that will erase me when it’s unclear where to place
me
a circle drawn over & over & over
Mother,
i want a wife
to find me in that bathtub
& ask me if i’m coming back to bed
soon.
seething cocks crow in me,
though
they’re made of imaginary clay