joshua jennifer espinoza


Sleepwalking through my gender
I fall into it and find blissful mouths

gnawing at my feet    I feel impetuous
and dead    No one cares or stays alive

long enough to fathom me or hear
what I am   So I force myself to believe

in peace until the song ends    I live
one million years longer than the

oldest tree    I call myself light’s
twin sister   I record my dreams of

freedom    I imagine my blood as something
beyond words or language or any shape

a tongue could form without first killing
and rebuilding itself from the cosmic cum

angelic love that grips my core and
says woman woman woman woman woman

woman like a broken machine doing
its best to transcribe that which cannot

be known under these conditions    Under
these men’s skies    Under the purple

bruise of becoming this softness who
stays awake all night to erase truth and

replace it with meaning    I write who I am
on my eyelids    I say I am this or that

or the other    who passes through the gates
Shows her face on the plastic    Cuts and stitches

and cuts herself until everything matches
and is in its place and is understood