Nat’l Poetry Month 9/30

Francine buys mirrors of different shapes on days she wants to be a man. She wakes and her body is a foreigner on a bicycle in a dress by a river. I like these days, she writes, mornings when even my voice is honey. Francine hangs mirrors in back of a red barn by a field. That way, I can be a man and not know it. Francine believes in tearing through things. To find how to desire, she writes, I imagine a bicycle tire, a dress that is not mine, honey, and a day to be what’s in my head. Francine buys mirrors. Wakes, again, beside a man by the sea holding her own hand.

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