Photo by Pawel Czerwinski on unsplash
The Trans Girl in the Tree House
the house that is suspended
from the long bodies of redwoods
moves with the wind
moves with the shaking
of an earth that has not reached
its final form any more
than I have. I have
climbed the long stairs of redwoods
the redwoods that let
a multitude of little teeth gnaw
and yet hold fast to an earth
that spins with such velocity
it feels like holding still. holding
still, I feel the spin of chrysalis
around me, the gnaw of cells
devouring the caterpillar into wings,
all wings. you can't tell the leaves
atop the redwood they're not flying.
at a certain height it's all the same.
you can't tell the spinning girl
her body isn't home.
