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passing sequence
Aug. 13th, 2004 12:43 am(this is the first part of something for the zine.)
* * *
Whatever toughness you might think is here is just the negotiation between my body and what you think is there. It’s the result of tits ass hips sharp cheekbones and arched eyebrows with my hair, it’s the intersection- there, i said it- of who I am and what I don’t see in the mirror, of me this little precocious child reading books with me this terrified boy i mean girl looking out. I mean, it’s the achey node in my back that i feel each step when my boots strike the ground closer to the crossroads. And I’m not tough at all, that’s the thing- I have no bulky strength at my disposal, no posturing sneer I can pull without lapsing into a grin. Whatever it is you interpret as tough, like I’m somehow belligerent and roughened and hard, is just a smarting sting left on my skin. Maybe it’s the alternating blows of “excuse me, miss” and my eyes too open in the light. I only look awkward cos my bones hurt, growing to fit the spaces left by my skins. We act like it’s so bizarre to shed.
* * *
Whatever toughness you might think is here is just the negotiation between my body and what you think is there. It’s the result of tits ass hips sharp cheekbones and arched eyebrows with my hair, it’s the intersection- there, i said it- of who I am and what I don’t see in the mirror, of me this little precocious child reading books with me this terrified boy i mean girl looking out. I mean, it’s the achey node in my back that i feel each step when my boots strike the ground closer to the crossroads. And I’m not tough at all, that’s the thing- I have no bulky strength at my disposal, no posturing sneer I can pull without lapsing into a grin. Whatever it is you interpret as tough, like I’m somehow belligerent and roughened and hard, is just a smarting sting left on my skin. Maybe it’s the alternating blows of “excuse me, miss” and my eyes too open in the light. I only look awkward cos my bones hurt, growing to fit the spaces left by my skins. We act like it’s so bizarre to shed.
