Liv Labrys

Stone butch blues, testosterone gel, flat front boxers that cost too much, not knowing if the man you pass on the sidewalk thinks you’re a man or a woman, not knowing if he expects a smile or a nod, bruised arms, that one kiss from brokeback mountain, a benign tumor buried within breast tissue, wanting desperately to be touched, not allowing yourself to be touched, clove oil, never having enough piercings, ssri’s that don’t do much but you gotta keep taking them, mastectomy scars showing through a mesh bralette, soft stomach, big thighs, broad shoulders, wanting to be a gay man but only if you’re also a cowboy, wanting to run away, compulsory heterosexuality, the knowledge that you can never go back a single moment, 10 year old drugstore tinted lip balm that you need to throw away, leather, a collection of belt buckles, hanky code, unsureness if it’s their left or yours, not actually caring, steamed broccoli, big butch arms, squeezing shredded potatoes for latkes during Hanukah, crying when they kissed you, worries that they don’t want to fuck you anymore, your heart flipping over when they call you pretty, fisting, wondering if you’re demiromantic, realizing your gender is hot glued to your identity as a girlfriend, the new topping book’s paragraph on empathy, fear of dildos, erotic fascination with dildos, realtree camouflage, dressing like your stepbrother’s friends did in 2014, carabiners, bottom growth, triangle piercings, desire to be destroyed, insecurity in relationships, knowing you’re a woman but maybe not in the same way as your grandmother, passing as a man and not realizing it, passing as a woman and not realizing it, being asked your pronouns in the Kroger checkout line, bubblegum, fragile sobriety, soft things made hard, hard things made soft, guilt, getting distracted while deer hunting with your stepfather by the chanterelles, feeling ruined, wanting to be ruined, becoming convinced you are irredeemably perverted,,,