TRANS IS NOT YOUR CONVENIENT MYSTERY
breaking down bodies and body’s parts
into amalgams you can’t wait to understand
you are building an image of me my mouth defies
black-bone gut against the whitened intrusion of
dictionary definitions and hospital waiting rooms
i am waiting for someone to ask me
not what i am
but who i will be.
trust that i am an ancient power.
rocking the earth in circles
i am the moon in flux
shedding my skin for leather jackets and snakeskin shoes
i am the chalkboard
into your thick schoolboy skull
i am lights fluorescent and flickering
waxing and waning into horrible flame
i am the wind singing sailors into brokenness
beyond this body?
this body is beyond your feeble understanding
of what it means to mean
so let me tell you, ma’am,
that i am nothing you have seen before
i am not defined by petty things like height and hair
judge me by my character, the steel of my brow and the sneer of my hips
know me by the way i say you don’t know me
when you ask what a dirty girl like me is doing out so late.
you cannot break down this body
and serve it up like so many plates
because i am not pieces and i am not a whole
but i am holy holy holy goddammit
i don’t need your god to speak for me
this flesh knows its maker
and it’s me.
(you cannot break down this body.
you cannot break the unbreakable.)
By Hafsa Musa