I.
My other gender curtseys.
I hold her as one
holds a flower,
not knowing its name.
My name opens on both sides,
plastic mint container, two holes, sizes:
to share and not to share.
II.
I hold myself
in a pot, water boiling.
Both of me
swirling. Drink
the other’s wake. Reach
for metal edge. Slip.
III.
No one tonight
wants to punch my throat.
Exhale.
I dance like a frog
in high heels.
In dark my genders collide,
incense over
that old-wood smell.