DEAR READER

DEAR READER:

You’ve been asking me what is this “XYZ”

when you should have learned the alphabet when you were 2

when all you needed to know was that her name was Shannon

and you thought her sparkly purple sandals were pretty.

 

You liked her

and it didn’t matter she was different the other girls you used to like.  

It didn’t matter

because you were not her and she was not you.

 

The year is 2017-

and it’s still possible to be “too much” of yourself.

I’m not talking about arrogance.

It’s time for some honesty,

 

and honestly?

I love women and I love men, too-

especially the gentle ones.

 

I’m sorry you’ve fallen victim.

 

You’ve heard too much about your friend Shannon,

whose legal name was still Shawn

until 22 years of persistent protest

transformed to progress.

 

I’m sorry

you heard she had the shit kicked out of her in 6th period shop class.

I’m sorry

you saw her fuchsia nails resting so out of place on callused fingertips.

 

I’m sorry

that you had to forget that she used to be called he

and that you have been best friends

all this time with you none the wiser.

 

I’m sorry you had to endure all of that.

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