Genetic/Narcissistic Rage

I should be genderless,
a shadow in the starlight,
a voice without a label,
a body without their categories carved into it.

Not the gender maniacs—
the Europeans—
who stitch identity into uniforms,
measure worth by boxes ticked,
and turn flesh into flags.

I can feel the shift,
like gravity loosening its grip,
like language forgetting my name.
Every breath takes me further
from their manicured definitions,
closer to a place
where I am simply I,
and nothing else.

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