Gender Bending

His eyes shift

to the right just slightly

when he lies

and the other performers wonder

what thoughts

run through

the rivers of his skull,

what words refuse

to come out of his mouth

and instead sit cradled

in the caves of the stomach.

He likes to think

of me as reckless,

like the sea,

even when I sit

silent

and watch the rainfall

as I wait

to make love to

midnight

when she comes

around again.

He stands in the mirror

looking back at me

when I walk up

to the glass

and smiles a big Cheshire grin,

all teeth,

with a knowing

and a third eye showing,

blinking and grasping

for my lungs

to share my breath,

as I wonder to myself

who am I?