roof snow around it until
warm wetness is seeping, soon
whole world is gone to brown slush/
your body’s just a thing of
ugly earth: splay it like
cracked cliff. you’re not sure where to
draw the line between you and
black hairs curl from your soft hands:
let go, crouch, moon’s filling up.
under the plastic shelter
at the station a kid points
is that a
boy or a girl mummy whose
eyes scan you not-quite-secret-
-ly, i think a man: smile back,
equivocate, be rictus!
you catch a glimpse of yourself
you picture your nose breaking:
no, let your body lengthen,
be wolf/ sleek tooth and empty
Tam(sin) is a poet, historical sociolinguist and nb trans woman based in Cambridge (UK). They are interested in poetry-as-magic and poetry-as-language-at-the-verge-of-collapse. Her previous publications include poems in FIELD and Structo. Find out more about them here.