They
By Sojourner
They lives in the nucleus of my cells, it rarely boils to the surface of my flesh. Most days it’s not ready to face the eyes of others.
They is not interested in what my appearance is read as by external forces, it carries no regard for social morays or stratification.
They remembers and honors the child that often said “I want to be a boy,” while equally loving femme aesthetics because they knew no box could quantify their authentic self.
They is queer but also needs more space than a sexual orientation can allow. They loves that their pronouns live beyond borders.
They sits waiting for the environment to catch up to their truth. They is patient because it exists beyond the confines of linear time.
