Emily Moon

This Boy Bod

This boy bod
had to carry me
all the way here.
No one else
could do it.
Would do it.
It took every
strength, every
weakness, every
wrong turn I ever
made. I succumbed
to the tide
that rushed me
along. I strained
against myself,
tried to become,
tried to be
me. The image
in the mirror
lied. The image
inside strived.
I was buried
so deep, there
was no light.
All I needed
was a spark,
a glimmer
in the dark.
The only place
that fire could
start was in
my heart. It
kindled within,
unseen. Until I
was ready to
burn away
the dark, burn
the dark into
day. Even though
the day was
a hurricane,
a flood of rain,
a river of pain.
I had to burn
through to me.

I Rise

I rise
from ashes
incandescent
transcendent
my breath
incendiary
words cannot
contain me
my eyes
shoot sparks
birth stars
universes
I expand
surf the
redshift
of possibility
at trans
light speed

Emily Moon (she/her) is a transgender poet from Portland, Ore. She is Editor at First Matter Press. Her book, It’s Just You and Me, Miss Moon, was published by First Matter Press prior to her taking on an editorial role. Her work includes appearances in or forthcoming from Pile Press, Hecate Magazine, Firefly Review, Mulberry Literary, Labyrinth Anthologies, and Brazos River Review.