I Go Out With My Gender

by Gretchen Rockwell

after all / the void can’t be / any more interested in me / than I am in it // but I like its shirt / the sly I Need More Space / the way it smells like lightning / like the dark // I like that it asked // how I ask it / do you get your nebulae pulled back into that bun? / mine never turn out so well // we compare notes / we wander the antique market / turning over old doorknobs & printing plates // it is looking for a ring it will never wear // I am looking for / something // I’ll know when I see it // the void looks comfortable // the void looks like me on my best days // the void doesn’t mind / taking up space // its face is opaque / occasionally it blinks starless eyes // the void rummages in its rucksack & asks me / for a quarter for the penny press // the void has never been to a tourist destination // we walk past the gas station & I buy the void / an electric blue icee // the void confides that it enjoys the tingle of brain freeze / says it tastes like space on its tongue // I buy an icee & all I taste / is cherry // the void tells me / it likes my poetry // I tell the void I am in love with it // as much as I can be with anything // it says I know / I hit it in the arm for the Han Solo joke // the void walks me to my door / looks at me with those inky starry eyes / & tells me / to enjoy my night

Gretchen Rockwell is a queer poet currently living in Scotland. Xer work has appeared in perhappened mag, Whale Road Review, Poet Lore, FreezeRay Poetry, and elsewhere. Gretchen enjoys writing about gender, history, myth, science, space, and unusual connections. Find xer on Twitter at @daft_rockwell or at www.gretchenrockwell.com.