SWWIM sustains and celebrates women poets by connecting creatives across generations and by curating a living archive of contemporary poetry, while solidifying Miami as a nexus for the literary arts.
After the poetry reading, I join a friend at the bar on 12th St. We haven’t seen each other in a few months. I missed the quiver in her lower lip as if on the verge of tears.
Her fingers flirt down my arm, but she speaks non-sexual things into my ear over the music & cacophony of chatter.
On the dance floor, I try to mimic her undulating body to ’90s music.
In the ladies' room, I help unzip her black & red jumpsuit.
Glimpse of white skin like new porcelain, shoulder hip thigh.
As she sits, I look away into the mirror, brush away a curl. My cock would be hard now if it had enough testosterone. Instead, it remains quiet in black cotton panties.
My friend slips back into the jumpsuit. Full breasts I wish to have ripple like Jell-O in maroon bra. I zip her back up.
Two girlfriends wait for us in the hall, one of them is also trans.
The bar is now crowded. With caution, we shuffle through mountains of men with stoic faces.
After taking my friend home, we say goodnight with an embrace almost like lovers.
Later, when I lay in bed, I feel a drop of wetness, cold between my thighs.
Josslyn Turner is a trans poet and abstract artist. She is currently an English Major at CSU, Stanislaus. Her poems have appeared in The Vitni Review, The Lily Poetry Review, Journal Nine, Oyster River Pages, and elsewhere. She lives in Waterford, California where she co-parents two awesome boys.
