What The Hell Do I Do With A Penis?

http://callan.transpractice.com/text/poems_c.html#Penis

Subj: What The Hell Do I Do With A Penis?
Date: 5/3/99

So, this is the question: what the hell does a femme do with a penis?

For femmes, a penis is less a root part of their identity than a fashion accessory, something to don when it will perfectly compliment an outfit, attitude or role. They are nice to have, but they get in the way.

When Tina came over last night, I gave her the one I made for her. It wasn’t complex, just a soft packy to compliment the strap-ons in her wardrobe, made from condoms filled with hair-gel and tied together in the toe of a nylon stocking.
We slipped it inside her pantyhose, under the long black silky knit dress print with tulips. she complained about it all night, how it stopped her from sitting nicely, and wandered about like it had a mind of its own. Her best friend Patrick, who we ran into at the drag show, told her that would happen as soon as she pulled his hand to her crotch to show off the “arts & crafts project” she had been gifted with.

healing, believing in beauty, power of sexual healing,

enormous moon, pray dammnit pray. not about what you want, about who you are.

Sex confuses me
I end up getting cast
as the one with the penis
even when my partner
sees me as a woman.

Or maybe
I’m just cast
as the old one,
the smart one
the healer
even for people
who are the healers
in other places.

My strength
My mind
My penis
overwhelming

I provide safe space
for others to find themselves
but where do I find safe space
to just relax?

I know what she wants
healing of a healer
by being enveloped
surrounded in a womb
and I give her that
but not with my body
which cries for the loss
dreams of femaleness
scratching inside my skin

yet this is the way of my body
this is the life I was dealt
the cards I was supposed to play
rather than trying to reconstruct
a neo-female body

I know I can wear whatever I want
and go wherever I want
but I also know
that is a lonely life
however you cut it
hiding my history in a reconstructed body
hiding my body in a reconstucted image
always hiding
always hiding
always lonely.

This is the challenge
even in bed
when the roles are assigned
and I feel erased
always lonely

I am not
a guru
a healer
a radical
a nutcase
a bomb thrower

I am
a human
with the power of story
and the weakness of flesh.

My penis works
but I never had
the cockiness
to work it.
Yet, it is the part
that ends up defining me
in bed
and wherever
the line between female and male
slices me apart

======================================
Women wish to be loved not because
they are pretty,
or good,
or well bred,
or graceful,
or intelligent,
but because they are themselves.
— Henri Frederic Amiel

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