Carl, Sitting, watching the sunset at the pond, with our shoulders touching, something stopped. I’m unsure who is more mirror-like: the sky, the pond, or you. Your stillness made me feel as if all time had been condensed into this. Everything contained. Every sorrow, joy, panic, put to rest
Paul, Thanks for joining me at the farm today. You carried those two bags of feed on your shoulders with ease. The new Scovy boys really like you. Next time we will need to bring more treats. I could tell you enjoyed it. The sunlight in your eyes gave it
Edmond, Thank you for joining me in my dance class. The mirrors caught your grace perfectly. I noticed you never touch the dance floor. I think the lightness of your heart lifts you, not so much that you float away. A balance between sinking into the earth and soaring beyond
Paul, There is a depth to you. A box within a box, within another box. I don’t know what you are protecting, but it feels painful. The pain reaches in the arrows you shoot at me, from behind the walls you’ve built around it. It doesn’t hurt
Thomas, I noticed the child spark in your eyes today. It’s never left you. It’s full of kindness, laughter, and a joy for life which turns garbage into cardboard palaces. I’m glad you and Julie are figuring it out. Yes, life is hard. Your words describe trouble
Edmond, I missed saying goodbye today, when you rushed off. You had a hop in your step which was like a kiss. I’m glad you are happy! That is the biggest gift, not only to me, but to the world. Your happiness is not ordinary, it’s radiant! You
Carl, You have a chair in my heart. You visit it often. We chat. You give me updates on your life. What you've been doing over the years, your worries, your happy moments, your successes. I don't actually hear your words. I feel them. Regardless of
when you ask me to share my journey the discovery of myself what is your motive? underneath are you mentally gatekeeping? asking is she a SHE? so I may verify what details should I know about your conception?
after walking together for twenty-eight years our paths divided with a year between us, I see we walked with separate eyes in sorrow I ask are we traveling or dancing? when someone enters should we press our fingers together bend in rhythm spin away laughing when the music stops?
it’s not my space anymore asked to leave because I’m me a woman with transgender history as I go my print-less steps echo in my broken heart
while having a difficult conversation about my gender transition I asked as we've been talking do you feel you’re talking with a man or a woman she replied it feels like I'm talking with myself
every woman is unique so I don’t mind you knowing I’m transgender there’s only one critic whose gaze cuts deep she is brutal she is kind she is Satan she is Christ when she says I don’t pass I wither beneath her scorn when she says