Underneath the black walls of light
My star man, the female aspect
I left behind: enwombed in time:
Yang hides its yin inside of him
&
Here’s where we never have to choose
Between below and all above
Inside my yoursoul: two-sided:
A safe space for those gods to talk
&
More and more his old dark pulls me
Toward that crush in the center
Where if I wake she’s standing on
The ceiling looking up at me
does it so much matter
yes
whether which sex is the author
no
or even the species
,or
whether the verse
was churned in the belly of a brain
or a supercomputer the size
of a train
? is it like a punch in the liver
when that moment
i discover
the poem-here was written
in actual fact
by a thing unlike
me: a female
robot
not the same, really
what could she know
of human labor
pain, said the man
when god was a teenager
rowing through her sea
of self-made hormones
she wrote in her lockable
diary: i must make a universe
some time. it might be beautiful
to participate in, but i should
like to travel it as a man
this time, a little angrier,
a little narrower than i am
now. then she clasped her
journal and waited for
time to loop back around
to when she gave birth to
herself, so she could alter
her pronouns and create
a world where the sperm
came before the egg
⨀ 