Transgender Poetry
by Tina Bourne







When I was young and foolish at college I used to walk the streets of London, sometimes in the day but usually at night - alone. This describes an incident that happened one late night - It didn't stop me of course-TB

Out

The thundering beat of the heart in your neck
The clattering heels as you take gentle steps
The squeal of the hinge on the building front door
Take a step to the streetlight - a woman once more

The thrill of the shadow, walking ahead
The chill of the breezes on smooth, black clad leg
The tug as you walk of the belt on your hip
The pull of the nylon, straining each clip


The hesitant glances at people you meet
The occupied looks that you throw cross the street
The blinding bright lights of each passing car
Aimlessly, purposeful, how far, how far


How far is enough, nowhere to go
Once round the block just for the show
Was that car the same one that just drove by you?
Was that the same car, is he looking at you?


Look at what? Look at you, a girl out late at night?
Do you pass, Do you show?, What isn't right?
Is he curious? Dangerous? What does he want?
Does he want you? If he does, will he know what he's got?


Only then do you feel the constriction of steps
The tight pull of the skirt, hugging your legs
The heels, 'til now joyful... now fatally slow
Should you turn and go homeward, just turn and go?


You play out an act as he passes again
"What did you forget...?" Your handbag, keys, then
You know that he's stalking you. Stops up ahead
Pulls round the corner, pulls out of sight


Enough is enough, you know now how it feels
Being part of the club - a woman in fear
The games is survival, a race to the door
Take off your shoes, shrug off the walk


Headlights ahead, the Ford again, turn
Run down a cross street, head pounding, ears burn
Away from the front door, away from the car
Dive in a garden, duck behind here


Road crunching, tyres biting, crawls past you there
Breathing so quietly, crouching you dare
Take a look as he passes, hunting or lost
Rounding the corner. Run...clutching your shoes


Crash through the front door, who cares who hears
Run up the stairs, biting the tears
Slamming the flat door, collapse on the bed
Weep in the pillow, thoughts fly through your head


The thundering beat of the heart in your neck
The bitter sweet smell of the fear in your head
The dreams you will have, the dreams that we share
One more dimension. A woman once more

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