The sky is shy today.
It stays on the fringes close to the wall.
It walks the halls
When no one else does.
It asks to be excused, hit or miss,
Odd intermittent times the bathroom
Goes unused, so it can be alone.

The realization of her gender
Has come upon her suddenly, here at middle school.
She questions her identity and her fate.
She can't relate to any final destination,
And yet she can't relegate anymore
The spasmodic methodologies,
The onset of menses,
And months begin.

She hears ancient doxologies ring
But makes no apologies
For not singing,
For not even uttering
A single word,
As she wonders if anyone else
Has ever heard "the talk"
Exactly this way.

-jenn