no talent
no father
no future

she bats her eyelashes at the mourning doves
sips her coffee and smiles
vitality flickers in her wide open eyes
she reaches out for her dear daughter

dear daughter? she’s dead
the mourning doves said
cracked open their beaks and they laughed
never a daughter, you were never a mother
she tossed them a crumb of her bread

never a daughter, always a son
her boy stepped up all alone
never a daughter, so never her child
she told him come here, my dear one

he walked up to mommy, long eyelashes crossing
her eyes twinkle, his don’t
i’m dead, don’t you see, i’m dead as can be
my daughter’s a dyke, and thinks that she
is my son.

he stares back at her, their matching eyes lock
he scratches his nose, he kicks at a rock
looks over his shoulder and says to the doves,
i’ve spent quite some time, learning to fly
no talent
no father
no future
but i
just for a few moments
i’ll fly away too
soar and glide and say fuck you
to everyone who calls me a dyke or a trap
and i know i’ll crash
why else learn to fly?

-tried something new here. i don’t think i like it

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