Some bodies learn to grow well from a nest of insults
to suffer like the transgender child that can’t
get to know a men-made world
that is constantly rejecting
I have heard my work is too feminine
that my bachelor doesn’t mean a thing
because I sing with birds in my flowy skirt
and fall silent when it is all opinions
In groups I could not speak for about two years
when everyone was shining while socializing
I got more introverted like folding inwards
while giving birth to invasive flowers
Thick stems, bursting petal-heads
that bee attracting business
with rude love at the sweet core
of my uncompromising homesickness
This impossible act is called existence
the healthy beast of quantum physics
for who once gained the love of hope
and won’t let go despite its weak from hunger
Back to the home we are sick for
that doesn’t only judge people’s inner gender
when deviating from the outer gender
but also women for being women
or men for being men
Eh.? Where are you in your superior words
A desk looks in its flatness not at all like the world
nor does a book, even that has to grow inside her
while you for once remain freaking quiet
Beast of thought, my biochemistry makes me
a womanly woman and I couldn’t care
more or less since here is my world for everyone
Talking to the faceless one, the brilliant concept
I draw natural studies of sensual orchids
inside his thorax
You can’t with all
your intellectual might
escape our flowing out
in sounds and tastes and colors
'
and yes, this is my work
the way the earth breathes
in giving, taking back.
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