Transphobes try to use body horror…

and the answer is to make art that tells them to fuck right off.

Cunt

The surgeons left me with a patchwork cunt
stitch-marks and scars, and smooth skin flayed from thigh.
I bled. I oozed. With speculums, I’d try
to burn new keloids off. I’d grope and hunt

for small hard bits I’d missed. That now are smooth.
Things levelled out. You’d never know the sore
torn places that were there. For an old whore
it’s sweet and neat and innocent as truth.

I paid in blood and pus. Here’s what I got.
Not some mere hole, but tenderness. A maze
of flesh love’s fingers have explored for days
and found its spring, gushing and furnace hot.

I dared not hope. Yet my reward was this –
to hang in ecstasy on sweet girl kiss.

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About rozkaveney

Middleaged, trans, novelist, poet, activist
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9 Responses to Transphobes try to use body horror…

  1. Oh, you splendid girl.

    I’m saving this one to my hard drive—and when I’m dead and gone and people nose about my files, they’re gonna run smack into your beautiful cunt. You even made it a sonnet, you splendid thing. Big love, Kate B

  2. celiaka says:

    This is wonderful.

  3. Why is it that your last stanza is always the best one?! You always finish your poetry off so well.

  4. roadnotes says:

    Your sonnets are always gorgeous and moving.

  5. This was beautiful, thanks for posting. (I saw it on my friendsfriends list and had to comment.)

  6. Seriously brought tears to my eyes. Fucking AMAZING!

  7. drflup says:

    Made my evening. Thank you.

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