Unsignified
1 Minute Read Time

I
There’s part of me that isn’t a girl
When she stamps and rages
red lights shoot along the ground
Unafraid of the moss-hung woods
She goes there
when the world wants to erase her
Or to the ocean floor
Shape-shifter Tentacled
Writhing and lighting up
Tetras float around her
She sends up a wave of sound
II
Once I had a friend
We dreamed in two genders and when we woke
We spoke of invisible things
III
Sometimes your love constructs like a foreign language
from a country
where everyone knows who they are
I visit You push my hair
into the style of the women and pull me toward
their sound
There’s part of me
this country never touches
IV
Once you came to explore the undersea
We’d tossed for days in a ship near your shore
Then I took your hand and plunged—
Your eyes to mine through the blue
You took
a delicate tentacle into your mouth
Read more from Issue 17.1.
