Threshold

The empty house filled with things
Left no room for us to turn around
The y’s turned for a tight scrape out
Into an empty yard with daughter playing
Under a mother’s watchful eye

A dirty look a honk a vanishing
Indoors again for another try
To get the hang of it through the door
Few in the night with unknown words
Reset the board again

For flight upon two wheels instead of four
The enchantment breaks beyond the door
And a pleasant breeze upon my skin
Leaves me laughing and alone at last
With the sea at wave beyond the cedars

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About cistotrans

A Seattle-area trans woman seeking a happy spot to stay at along the path of transition.
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