Mask4Masc
by g.t. sims
It’s no shave november all year round baby
An homage to what hath dubbed me names of Dirtbag, Prince, Rocker, Just-Plain-Wrong, and Stim Toy
The epitaph engraved on the tombstone of my former self
Where I, so willingly, host her celebration of life
and growth and change and testosterone
I begin my morning routine with a brush to teeth, hair, and eyebrow
Never overlooking that third, misplaced one 😉
And adorn my mask
Ready to take on the world
In this identity that is
mine and not yours.
The tips of my fingers traipse through
The finicky fibrous lip foliage
These prickly pussy pubes prostrated on my face
That thrust outward in eager greeting
As I look in the mirror
And I see my masc
With flat chest, tasteful buldge in my pants, chivalrous swagger, and resolve to be exactly
That guy
I strut out of my sanctuary of self-assurance
Masked like a lucha libre warrior on his way to defeat his enemies
Masked like stretching over my skin so that I can shoot magic webs out of my finger tips and soar through the sky
Masked like being in the closet
Masked like the one for Halloween my brother didn’t take off for weeks
Masked like the one I don’t plan on taking off ever again
I exist, I go to the bathroom, proud and masc
Masc’d like my friend that’s been on T for 3 months
Masc’d like my father
Masc’d The men in sports I admired that shattered what people thought the human body was capable of
Masc’d like my trans brothers that shatter what people thought the human body was capable of
Masc’d like that enby kid that was murdered in school the other day
Masc’d like Jesus Christ on the cross
(He’s trans, didn’t you know?)
I get down on my knees and pray
With this dinky little dick tickler
Oh! you gorgeous tufts of blonde and brown fur!
Bless thine sexy stubble snaking across my face coaxing Eve to take that bite
Praise be to my catapillar companion, for I am never alone in a crowded room
I still remember when they poured hot wax on you
Ripped you out of your safe nest
Leaving behind trails of blood
Doused you in bleach
To erase any trace of you
Picked and prodded and pulled at you with sharp metal claws
As if they were performing an autopsy
I still remember when you were a source of my shame
This thing that I had that I did not want
While there were so many other things of masculinity that I did want
This thing that made me feel less than in men’s eyes
When little did they know Iwanted to be just like them in their eyes
These precious pieces of myself I was born with
That I tried so hard to deny
Sorry doesn’t feel strong enough
To you or to me
May you rest now
so comfortably
on the soft skin of my upper lip
–
Author: G.T. Sims – they/he – IG @astronautshark_
G.T. Sims is a genderqueer multidisciplinary artist that works in words, sounds, and sculpture. They currently reside in Oakland, California.
