Zero

I named myself Zero

to make space

for everything

to exist in its time.

I have always felt

like no-thing

and everything

all at once.

Now my body is free

to express this

in whatever way it wants.

It moves.

It sways.

It jumps.

It shakes.

It has had its breasts

and nipples removed.

It is covered in art,

draped in so many lovely things,

peppered with perfume,

slathered in oils.

It doesn’t get touched

as much as it used to

when I was pretending to be a girl.

It grieves that.

And now

I can stretch myself out

so far

so wide

that sometimes

my arms meet the arms

of another strange being

who is also stretching —

over the seas,

beyond the mountains,

into the cosmos.