♱ GUT ♱

I’m pleased to have finally finished the first installment of the anthology, its providence that immediately following it I discovered ⚲ a symbol used in botany to distinguish those things without discernible sex. these nonpareil expressions of the trans experience so feel like home. it is easy to be lost in the sulphureous agony of the unending journey, one longer than it is hard; but toil and despair can fruit into beautiful expressions of self not dissimilar to the work of art this film was. Insolence of earnestness is all around, but to sincerely capture the sylph born of flagellation is a true achievement. observed by earnest and flagrant way through the film, and ⚲, I relish again the path tread by the queers’ who before me laid.

can I tell you a secret?

the body rings empty, a memory of sound dispelled. those tones I parrot hoping to feel close to you. It’s every word I forget to speak when not from the lines you gave me. I miss your voice so much.

walls

I am often compelled to ruminate on the bad and it is only by some blessing that goodness and virtue find me sunken into the floor boards. They pull the splinters from me and drag me to the club.

I think of this often, the mirror of a place co-opted by a disjoined Euclidean abominations.