The Dear Open Fields

by Christos Polydorou

IMG-20150919-WA0002Father
love me
or else
I’ll eat myself.

Mother
let me go
or else
I’ll be in heals and a silk dress,
getting drunk,
another paradigm
of bad judgement.

Transgenderatrix.
Being a human being
is weird.
All my sex-defining clothes
have disappeared.

Naked in the world.
And no one I like
wishes to practise
sketching human anatomy
or offer me a kaftan,
a cup of tea.

Woe is me.
How long of thee?
Within the creature
is so much more gripping,
and comforting.

Creature,
finds others,
and we run,
in packs,
not wallowing on what
we lack,
grateful.

Wild with gratitude.

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