For Terrance Hayes

John Kellogg created the cornflake to counteract desire.

Something so bland, he thought, will surely dissuade

even the most diabolical sex fiend from self-indulgence.

Kellogg underestimated the needs of the body.

A classic practice among physicians. Not just to be

served to, but to find satisfaction in the delivery.

Despite his desires, people are still prone to touching

themselves, whether alone or surrounded by others.

It fascinates that the cornflake, meant to curb arousal,

is most often eaten shortly after rising. It follows that if

Kellogg really wanted to curb the rampant sexualization

of the self, he would have prescribed the cornflake to be taken

at night. Though, to be fair, I didn’t start masturbating in earnest

outside of the womb until I learned to cook my own eggs.

My friend Nuala and I send each other nudes

because my God, we’re both so hot and what

else do you need to take pleasure in the people

you love but the trust to do so. So here I am,

at 3:26am, half-drunk, squatting in front of

the mirror clad only in a thong with my back

arched like a crescent moon and the camera

counting down the seconds to forever.

Let the record show, I want this with everyone

I know. I want the T daddies & the she/theys,

& the faggots & the trans fems & the bisexuals

and the still-figuring-it-outs, fuck, I even want

the cis-straights to slide into my DMs. You know

where to find me. I’m here if you need to be held.

A found poem for my trans siblings

The body is not a permanent residence

Let the dog out of the house

You are reaching always

for your center point

Let go of excess

Let go

You will find

you leave your body often

You go into the future

You go into the past

Be here

Be right here

I will be amazed

if in this life

my left knee

is ever in parallel

It’s not about that

It’s about reference points

And then from those points

you find where you are.