Gender In My Body (written 4/10)

I am not alway certain what I am.
I wane.
I wax.
I want to be something that is not femme or butch,
but I'm not sure how to build it.
I want to find a beautiful way of being.
I want to articulate all of this beauty in my body
which is so potent
I need to paint with a brush in my mouth.
I am mouthing the colors,
with shapes indistinct and only slightly glyphic,my canvas is giggling wildly green and orange.

I want to be broad shoulders and big squishable tits
I want to be swopping tender sockected hips,
hard curves packed with horsepower,
I want to stride like a cowboy,
I want to stride like a strumpet,
I want to stride like 4th grader on field day
footsteps full of popsicle laughter.

Fuck feminine
fuck masculine.
I am not a tomboy
my gender presentation is squishier that.
I am part freckled farmboy,
part sparkling debutante lips drawn down red and simulating you-know-what.
I want to be a rusty old tomcat
so that when I arch my back and stick my ass in the air
it is a sign of my physical prowess and the relaxed way this body takes up space.


Once someone told me I seemed to be some sort of radical femme-bot
I told them that it was a chassis I could pull off
easily
like a suit jacket or
a skirt with an elastic waistband.