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.