The saddest song I’ve ever heard
was written by a transsexual harpist;
her voice is stuck somewhere between
a man’s husk and a woman’s chime;
she shares her beautiful darkness,
—a pain that I can’t really understand,
and it makes me cry her simple lines
as if I’ve lived as an outcast from my own body
all of my life.
But then again I’ve cried over
the cutest songs I’ve ever heard too.
Pink melodies bounce from tongue to teeth
—the unattainable joy tears my tears
as harshly as a prick on my finger
or that pluck of the harp’s chord.



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