Beauty

My people are beautifulThey are strong (Trans)womenAnd powerful (Trans)menThey are wise cronesAnd rambunctious young bucksThey are sex workersAnd artistsThey are beardedAnd flat chestedThey are awkwardAnd gracefulThey are petiteAnd massiveThey are able-bodiedAnd differently abledThey are BlackAnd BrownAnd whiteThey are poorAnd they are richAnd each one of them holds a MysteryThe secret of a world between and beyond genderMy people are sacredAnd yet we live in a worldWhere we are not seen as holyWe live in a world where our experiencesOur wisdomOur identitiesAre invalidatedWe live in a world that sees usAs sickDerangedDelusionalFrom the Medical-Industrial ComplexTo the LGB communityTo so-called radical feministsTo our families of bloodMy people are being attackedIn a myriad and sundry subtle fashionsMy people are being murdered before my very eyesFalling in this endless, bitter warAgainst bodies and genders that don’t conformTo their BinaryAgainst those who hold that sacred MysteryAnd everyday I wonder if IOr my partnerOr my friendWill be the next causality in this struggleBut in spite of all of thisDespite all of the hate and violenceBoth from within and withoutWe. Live. On.And we remember those that have fallenKeep them in our heartsDraw strength from their memoriesAnd knowThat we will never give upWe will never surrenderAnd we will thrive