bitter with rust in the steady open air are
all the shapings of a voice around my tongue. you 
can feel the spittle of rain evoke a memory of going
away from putrid dampness to breathing in what it is to 
biting with austerity in the patterns of ecosystems committed
to allowing the flow of all that gasps inside to 
go outwards, I scorched my throat with what 
fired into an echoing existence, fueled by oxygen and bramble. you
find it smelling of metal--don't 
you know it had been given air all along? can't you see?

Oh My Word! Thank you for reading this poem! It was inspired by a brief interview with writer and performance artist Alok Vaid-Menon in the recent TransLash Media documentary “The Future of Trans.” In their interview with Imara Jones, Alok expresses that “challenging the gender binary doesn’t look like a certain thing. I contain so much more than what I look like” and follows this statement with a powerful question: “Are you going to be committed to what you don’t see?” This prompted me to attempt writing a poem that connotes identity around senses other than sight. I hope you enjoyed it and I’d love to hear from you! Leave a comment down below!

If you are interested in watching the short documentary “The Future of Trans” as well, you can find it here:


Oh, My Word! is a weekly updated blog featuring fiction, poetry, drama, and essays for the world. #OhMyWordWednesday

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end rhyme adversary

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