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Transitioning in the Milkweeds
I kneel and open myself wider.
Spread arms, unwind ribbons of femininity, and show her
my buzzcut. Murmuring, her mouth tries to wrap itself
around syllables, but the r’s get caught in the overbite.
I want to kiss her eyes and make her understand, but how do I tell her
about the hours I spend in reflection trying to funhouse my curves flat?
A body is still a body when split by time.
I will not leave you behind
underneath the handmedown polkadot dress
in the buttercups. Sophie, I need you to listen
to the spiderwebbing glass-crack spreading through my center. Press ear
to time bomb tick and tell me you don’t hear the girlhood
being devoured.
She stares my body through and when it hits her
everything kaleidoscopes. She pounces,
leeches limbs lemonade sticky for my name and I let her
take it. I promise her everything she doesn’t know.
One day, Sophie, you’ll cut yourself
free from fractured mirrors
on the inbetween. I am not leaving you
in the dark with an inch worth of light between the door.
I promise you a body to belong in.
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This is a poem about someone is who transgender coming out to their younger self. It's about accepting the past and promising hope.