Silvered girl, drawn and poured, something about this is all too familiar. Glasstouch, you hate a shattered face, the way it lies, the way it says something else. I know you mean it when you say that I'm like you. I know. I don't hate you.
The first of man had his woman woven to his side before God cleaved him into wanting, and every day he would look for what was missing, never knowing that it was just the woman part of him. And when she held him, he held himself, with this gentleness he learned from her.
I bought you these gloves. I was out shopping and I saw them and I thought of you and I remembered how big your hands felt anyways and so with the weather getting cold, I don't know, the thought of your hands hurting made me want to cry and I did, I started crying right there in the TJ Maxx and the fluorescent lights didn't even care and the other shoppers didn't ask and anyways I just thought you should keep your hands warm for all the work they do.
I'm leaving but I want you to come with me.
Nora Hikari is an emerging poet and Asian-American trans lesbian based in Philadelphia. Her work has appeared in Tealight Press, Feral Journal, and QAPoetry, among others, and her poem "Deer-to-Fish Transition Timeline" has been nominated for the Best of the Net award.