I don’t know why it took us eight years
to attract each other
I don’t know why you say you’ll call
I don’t know what you’re so goddamn afraid of
why we even started this?
I don’t know why I feel safe in your arms
and think about you all the time
I don’t know why I’ve been so
and forget me
when I mean to say
yeah, sorry, what I meant to say was
I liked the way your slim hips swayed
back and forth with mine
I was careful not to say anything like “slim hips”
I played the shy girl
and it paid off
here, it’s become strange to kiss strangers
but tonight I got my flirt back
haulin’ out the rusty old smile
but it’s easy when you feel it
smiles are easy
when you’re singing in my ear
holding my hand
pushing me up against the car
brushing your moustache against mine
you tell me that you’re trouble,
like I don’t know touble
I’m more trouble than you could ever be
’cause I know that you don’t even know the half of it
someone that can step to this
mirco mini for the Anchorage Press fiction contest: 25 words or under.
During the interview the groomer yanked on my facial hair. “I thought it was dog fur!” she gasped. So no, I didn’t get the job.
Trans and genderqueer folks are an irreplaceable part of our communities. Those individuals we seek to honor tonight, who have had their lives taken from them, teach us how far we are from goals of living in an environment where personal safety is not dependent on one’s gender identity. We make progress when we open our hearts and listen. Tonight we are opening our hearts. I am so thankful that we have the ability and agency to do so. In the face of these unspeakable truths, truths that must be spoken, we must do our best to understand and love one another.