Between the light and dark shades of my shadow,
And in the familiar silhouette spread through the mirror,
I saw more of a queasy lass springing
Mom’s gawky boy, too inelegant to be a girl.
I was dressed to display dignity,
To show off the machismo stamped at birth.
My skin cried defying the body it concealed.
From being a Pretty Mystery to a Question Mark,
From a being a Silly Farceur to an Awful Sapphic,
The migration was strange, dark and excruciating.
It’s my fault – an aftermath of past lives’ sins!
Lords of morality cast my prayers, diluted
To the lesser gods tagged “he-or-she”.
My authentic expressions are cultural misfits
My dreams need to align with my genitalia
If you have long colorful feathers, you got be a peacock!
When I don’t decide who you should be
Why don’t you let me paint my identity?
When I can erase the dysphoric mist from the mirror
Who are you to determine the gender of my shadow?