neither male nor female or none

She couldn’t kiss me, nor i her

those lips filled with acid realities

a peril i was not prepared to undertake

i couldn’t kiss him

that taste burned my tongue

a reality i knew too well

a box i had finally climbed out of

i wouldn’t touch it

the sweet unpredictable swelling

nestled in it cozy cave

frightened of new heights and sticky aftermaths

was i

i was a third party perspective,

the helicopter from the sky

peeking down from a window

i can’t place my hand upon my mound

without feeling the regret of its

familiarity and femininity

although masculinity is an aspect i

strove to embody

i’m in a wrestling ring,

sweating, bleeding, crying, cumming

to the sounds of tortured wishes

fantasies rung dry and color faded

a used cloth of sexuality, never

washed in a high efficiency machine

i am a blanket over the body i force

myself to claim more than the stolen

physique

the view that sucked the warmth from

grief-stained eyes

the screaming gone quiet and

the peacefulness that creeps in from

diving into a pool of insanity

confusion is an infant’s tool, mine

has lost its tape

my hammer was welded stronger,

iron-board life to its pounding

the ring of the anvil the steps of

my feet

i couldn’t  stop it from slipping over my vision

a plastic sheet decoration filming

a sight of spilling wine from hands

tilted downward

hands that touch and relish the mound,

worship the sucking pleasure

without holding palms with it,

smiling into each others’ lovely eyes

i couldn’t breathe a word, a coherence

gone in panting as i watched

an idea flow into life, unexplored

and its essence assumed

i want to conquer the treasure,

eat the sand if i must,

choking on an idea whose effervescence

is guaranteed

i couldn’t  fake it, the pushing

wouldn’t hold the monster in its

closet

my vigil of lamp holding to keep it at

bay was too tempting

its smell too saccharine

my machete cut into it, long

strips of warmth, thick with tangibility

but it can regenerate

i couldn’t kiss him, i licked my lips

at her

the salty taste upon my mouth was the only kiss available to me

given by my tears

Disclaimer: This post was written by a Feministing Community user and does not necessarily reflect the views of any Feministing columnist, editor, or executive director.

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