Insides full of air

Being a girl

who does not

exist in a body

ruled by nature

and the moon.
Old enough for

Lust.
The creator was drunk

or tripping.

Perhaps,

it was a Friday afternoon?
When they threw

my cosmic alignment together
and sent me down too soon.

Unable to relate.

I smile in sympathy.

Rub backs and

make that noise.

She did not show.
The allusive

Red-faced Aunty Flow.
But it’s alright,

I have some fun,

this is why.

Don’t even have to try.

It’s easy when you’re not concerned

with the fear of procreation.

A careless smile

flashed with a whisper.

Sleeping with the enemies

I share more in common

than I will ever tell.

I hold babies with dry eyes.
Free from maternal desire.

This pelvis is too narrow

This heart a selfish stone.
The bleeding angels
are a ticking time bomb.
The Jesus boys
pompous with faith and

well believed lies.

Lofty tales tell.

The fall of mankind

By lure of a vixen.

I slipped free of

such punishment.
Perhaps
I’m not human?

Sometimes my ego

bends all out of shape

distorting everything.

Sequestered to a life

of quasi masculinity.

I can like a man.

Insides full of air.

I can like a man.