to the four trans women who pointed and laughed at me on W19th street saying
“what the fuck do you think you are doing?”
how does it feel like to be on the other side of the joke for once?
is that what we are fighting for, to be on the other side of the joke?
would you believe me if i told you
this morning i looked at the mirror and asked myself the same question:
“what are you doing?”
the thing about power is that it will make something that feels so familiar
look so strange.
when i started my transition it felt like something i had already been doing my entire life: erasing myself in order to fit in.
i am sorry for the deep voice.
i am sorry for the body hair.
i am sorry for the wide shoulders.
at what point does femininity become synonymous with apology?
i am sorry for all of the people in the world who mistook your prodigy for parody:
you who mastered the art of giving birth to yourself when they simply could not.
i am sorry but i was doing nothing but standing here on the street.
i wonder when they see us seeing ourselves like this,
who gets the last laugh?
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