A Poem About Transsexuality


Transsexual, they call me.
Let me tell you what I am:

A ghost.

I have no body.
It's still under construction.

Yet my spirit lives.
I am a goddess in exile,
Pulling strings from beyond the grave,
Gathering money,
Assembling a team of allies:
Friends, hair removal technicians, voice trainers, doctors, surgeons.

To create a body I can call my own,
To resurrect me.
Will I have enough money to survive?

A human soul needs a body to live.
So for now, I have possessed this man's body.
He was already dead when I found him.
Please forgive my current appearance.
It's the only lump of flesh I had access to,
Something I can work on...

To be alive.


           — Kara Hill, June 2003, at passing level 0

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