She leaned lunged boozily. 'I'd love to fuck
except you were a guy. Suppose we did.
Could it be secret?' I went off and hid
in the disabled toilet. Out of luck
again. I liked her. Really. But her mates
would hate her. They'd read Raymond. She had too.
Two sweet-bummed baby dykes I knew
wanted me though, and took me out on dates
and slowly talked their ways into my bed.
One liked my shoulders, scratched them when we'd dance.
Left me. Would come back when each new romance
went sour. Most of her lovers wished me dead.
But not for being trans. And I got laid
instead of hated. Seemed like a fair trade.