I wonder how you feel right now,
In the arms of another comfort,
In tandem, resonant.
I feel stuck in my skin
This isn't who I am,
And will they ever believe that I'm a woman?
If I'm born a man.
In her eyes you see her story unfold,
With her eyes she stares right into your soul.
Every kiss of yours was touching my soul,
and the butterflies were giggling at our tryst.
I go in
to hear your sing
from between your thighs.
Today, I am not stuck in what you think of me-
This exhausting, endless loop of trans-misogyny
Not broken and what I ought to be
I was the mystery of an anatomy, a question asked but not answered.
when the sun knocks on our windows
kissing our bodies
twirled in bedsheets
dancing to the tunes of morning joy
A faulty road surpassed by ghoul,
Where orange and grey masters rule,
Of an affinity towards a copper statue
Built in disguise in your greener side.
You never had the courage to give our relationship a name
It concerned you more if the world found out & never looked at you the same
At a table in the corner
Whirling her world in my cup
Cream still appears like a meaning
She said, had lost over the years
The waves of her desire
Gush at my feet on the shore
I long to seep away in the ocean
I long to go with her
Always comforted by binaries
So used to divisions of only Two
I found myself baffled when I
Entered the Ladies’ Room
And found a bunch of men
My pen and pain have become the same
Each thought of you
I scribble it down
Trying to write a story about ‘us’
I’ve only recently proved it to be true
Aai, Baba - I’m dying to just tell you.
Let’s meet at a place
Where instead of capturing
You in my words
I take in your laughter
And imprint it on me
For another lifetime
For gay poet Yun Hyun Seok, his name preceded and confirmed his existence/essence.
Society is constituted by language and language is constituted by society. It is through language that our existence is communicated and confirmed.
Away from the truth and hurting
A shallow living, prying
To be honest, but dying
Away from the hurt from the race
Im fine on a stage on my pace
Have you always known?
My attraction to pretty girls with
pretty eyes and sad stories.
Stories I re-told at lunch everyday, asking
for endings I knew nothing about.
Indemnify me for this gigantic emptiness of vast space
and for not having the courage to break it to my face