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 OutThe thundering beat of the heart in your neckThe 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 |