January 7, 2022.
a cigarette smoke tainted cardigan
bed head but freshly painted nails
and she offered her wisdom in laughs
we greeted that crisp winter air
with our spirits jumping from our mouths
coming out as our breath but taking the form of fog
we had watched so much of ourselves let go this past year
before my transition, i would join my girl friends
in the school restrooms; we would team up as a pack
you hear a lot of jokes about how many girls it took to take a piss
but if anything, we were all bonding together and talking shit
and we did it, to validate one another
and to know this was a space you would not be interrupted in
we were in the presence of pastel pink and vulgar graffiti
and though i was in my own struggle with gender, i craved the resillence and empathy of women
and years later, here i was with an old friend on a smoke break
when i hadn't touched a cigarette in my life
and she tells me she remembers the lone wolf of the pack
who had known the lipstick on teeth, tongue in cheek double-sided axe
and though time has passed, she's sure i remember what it was all like
and that i'm invited to every circle and conversation she and her friends have
when signs talk about women's rights and bodies, she will think of men like me
who can't find themselves fitting in anywhere anymore without outing their history
Poetry by aidan haskel
Read 214 times
Written on 2022-01-07 at 23:36
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pastel pink and vulgar graffiti
rosy cheeks, a coy smilea cigarette smoke tainted cardigan
bed head but freshly painted nails
and she offered her wisdom in laughs
we greeted that crisp winter air
with our spirits jumping from our mouths
coming out as our breath but taking the form of fog
we had watched so much of ourselves let go this past year
before my transition, i would join my girl friends
in the school restrooms; we would team up as a pack
you hear a lot of jokes about how many girls it took to take a piss
but if anything, we were all bonding together and talking shit
and we did it, to validate one another
and to know this was a space you would not be interrupted in
we were in the presence of pastel pink and vulgar graffiti
and though i was in my own struggle with gender, i craved the resillence and empathy of women
and years later, here i was with an old friend on a smoke break
when i hadn't touched a cigarette in my life
and she tells me she remembers the lone wolf of the pack
who had known the lipstick on teeth, tongue in cheek double-sided axe
and though time has passed, she's sure i remember what it was all like
and that i'm invited to every circle and conversation she and her friends have
when signs talk about women's rights and bodies, she will think of men like me
who can't find themselves fitting in anywhere anymore without outing their history
Poetry by aidan haskel
Read 214 times
Written on 2022-01-07 at 23:36
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
