Saturday, June 4, 2011

Trans-Sexuality (a spoken word piece)

As read live 06/03/2011 at Fluxx gallery, Tucson AZ


What is it you were looking for?

Certainly not a girl like me? And yet, there was that curiosity. A flash in your mind, a wonderment. That moment you found me approachable, and friendly, and nothing like the stereotypes you had heard. No, not like those girls on the she-male fantasy website that no one ever knew you visited. And certainly not like the tranny whores you had seen but never had the nerve to solicit. No, I was somehow more real, more human, oddly more female.

And your curiosity builds.

A whirlwind of sorts, the mind excited by the possibilities. In that first rare moment, no thoughts beyond the joy of pursuit. But a different pursuit, like no woman you had ever tried to pick up before. Your dirty little secret perhaps? Or maybe one hell of a unique story to tell your closest of friends? But, something so exotic, so rare, as tempting as it is, always leads to nervous questions. Am I crazy? Am I gay? What kind of freak am I? But, the curiosity remains strong.

And the mind begins to build a wall around your pride.

Yes, you can do this, but it means nothing. Shes just some slutty T-girl ripe for the picking. Do it, and never speak of it again. Its just a quick way to get your rocks off, and a new experience to keep life interesting. Fuck her and her heart, shes not quite human anyways. Its not like anyone would believe her if she spoke up, your word against hers and you have all the credibility. The wall of animosity shrouds your heart and your mind, and you work your best pick up moves. Yes, lets do this, your game for it, you want to know, its all about you anyways.

And I.

Not so fragile as you might think. A free and empowered soul, and not at all ignorant of the world. I wasn't pining for a loving man anyways. I had just come in for a drink. Going home alone suits me fine. But, then again, a girl does need her playtime too. No fool am I, I know what I have to offer. I know the rarity of me is naturally intriguing. And I know that, though you may build walls of distasteful vitriol, deep down I have your attention. I have your curiosity up, and I have you if I so desire. My empowerment is my sexuality, and I am free to use it or deny it. No, smooth as you are, this is my game and we shall play it my way.

And so it is.

Another evening, another body beside me. You will never call, never say hello in public. And you will never get the chance as I have left before you awake. Having taken from you what it was I desired, I shall move on, until the next night, the next guy, the next strange sexual dance. And you, confused by my absence in the AM, mind set on the devastating denial you hoped to impose but were not allowed. There is no reconciliation, no way to put this to rest in your head. It will follow you. A memory, one you do not want but do not want to lose either. Its that initial moment we met, all over again. That blend of curiosity and disgust, forever burned in your psyche.

And somewhere

Somewhere right now you are alone, hand full of your own cock flesh, mind full of my memory. Damned to remember vividly what we shared, loving and hating it simultaneously. And I, I am still here. No doubt sharing a bottle of wine with friends and laughing over the latest three minute wonder to try and break me. Yes, laughing over you. An amusing notion for those of us who know the game and use it to our own advantage. I may have been a one night curiosity to you, but I turned into a mental image that follows you forever. You on the other hand, were a toy to be used for my amusement and gratification. The gratification was temporary and, in fact, a bit weak due to your inadequacy. But the amusement shall live on, at least until the next plaything comes to hand. Your intentions were vile, your view of me derogatory, your selfishness apparent.

But: who really screwed who?  

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