Poetry

Crossdressers

By March 11, 2023August 2nd, 2024No Comments

Doesn’t smile

I want him to smile

I want him to lie back and smile, motionless

I want to suck on his genitals till it runs out of milk

Till he smiles, and a tear runs down the side of his left eye

He doesn’t smile

He doesn’t want me to milk him. It hurts, he says

He’s got no genitals, he says

He says I’ve rubbed him out of it;
he lies

He wants to move on top of me

He says I’m the one with genitals;

he lies

He wants me to keep still while he licks me

Close my eyes, and press my lips together

Then he wants me to open up in a form of a smile

What a change, what a change !

Patches of black hanging down the sky

Then I creep up his leg; a roach, that’s what I am

What happened to me, to me, with my big blue eyes !

I creep up his leg up up up

Patches of black
What a change in the sky.

He lies

A good erection, yes, the roach bit the penis

What a change;
I remember things

Things have changed

I remember everything

The roach crawls down slowly, feeling as tiny as a lonely ant

Orange light falls on the bed

It is an isolated room

Down on the floor is where we made love

There on the windowsill, where we sat watching neighbors’ commotion

They were loud at times, then we made love

I used to envy him for his thirsty vulva

Feeding him my forefingers I would envy his pain

He had pain; he says he still does

He says I rubbed him out of his genitals

I want him to lie back, stay still

Then,
I want to crawl up a wall

We did nothing during the night

Crying yelling shouting whining was all we did

We used the night for a stage, a crazy one

The curtain rise !       The curtain fall !

Rise !
Fall !

Rise !
Fall !

Rise !
Fall  fall   fall,  stupid !

He is beautiful, sleeping, sun rays on his body

Kisses, how many kisses

Countless kisses my lips tattooed on his skin

How completely, entirely, absolutely he is mine

I want to wear him on me

Wear him on my bones

He is a child born thousands of hours ago

In a shell, dark inside and chill

He saw me on a dirt-road; why was I purpled ?

The road ran down a valley, deep and dense

But,
why was I purpled ?

I showed him my womb     Bloody safe warm soft, ah ? I told him

He is an enchanting goddess with eyes of sapphire

Wearing sky blue sandals

With a dust of purplish silk as a gown

I want him to smile

He wants to paint me all blacks & reds

Then;
he wants to hang me on a wall, wash his brushes, and walk off

Bright sapphire smiles
Red ruby smiles

Sit back like a motionless dirty sea
Like a womb taking back his child

No,
I don’t want to hide you

No,
I don’t want to hide

Why don’t you hang me up a tree like a silly star

Yes,
of course I hear the gnawing

Yes,
I know it hurts

Yes,
I see the clouds are crumpled

I’ll wash your gown, not to worry.

I’ll wash the sheets, bloody sheets, yes.

  —

Saghi Ghahraman
Davenport Ave., Toronto 1999