I’m fascinated by the way my upper lip feels. It’s been over 20 years since I’ve had a clean face, no hair to adorn it and the top of my head no longer has the weeds growing on top. My lips are a gash across the large planes of my head. Uncomfortably feminine. My mother’s lips.
As with my insides my outside is bare now. I’m down to the basics. I’m no longer the man in transition. I feel stripped down to the bare bones. What a catastrophic 3 years it’s been.
No desire to meet men. No desire to get out. Rest and reorganize are my main actions. My main desire is to get rid of excess and be confident in myself. I can take care of myself. I am handsome. I can smile. I can rest. I can pay bills. I can decide.
My head is splitting this morning. Heavy as a concrete block on top of the storm of my stomach down to the tingling of my limbs…
The morning has come. The aroraborialis has come and gone – red florescent sky making the everyday magic. Stardust.. There you are flying across the sky my love. Reminding me of passion, drive and innate nature of self.