The Empress’s New Clothes

I am a mirrored mosaic made of shiny and jagged edges, all narrow slivers of myself glued to my body after shattering who I used to be. I no longer reflect toward myself but away. Multitudes see what they see in each broken crystal, revealing small pieces of themselves as they cast their eyes about me, striving to see what they call my truthful shape. Yet I stand before them in full outline, fully realized, nothing hidden; my dazzlement must befuddle them.

Like a wraith I move through them, parting their blindness with shears of candor as through gossamer veils of silk wrapped by tongues. I abide as empress within the folds of my new clothes, a body naked and proud to pass judgement on those who judge: better mine than yours, my mien mine, not yours.

To those who dare challenge my sovereignty, I set tests of character to reveal their authentic cruelty. Kindness balances on scales of commission and omission as situations demand so I watch what is taken and what is given.

Nominees found wanting earn scorn and shame. For the shameless, bitter, bitter ashes delivered by the guerrilla queen in rifles filled with ink and bombs with bombast to their masters. The power of the purse binds many a man with cables stronger than steel yet are dropped like hot irons by those who hold them when the greater treasure is risked.

Ignorant candidates are educated, at least as much as their noggin is able to hold or I judge my time spent well enough. Mayhap a few of the seeds I sprinkle will sprout. Even the most fertile field and greenest thumb is subject to misfortune and failure but I must sow before I can reap.


©Heather Coldstream

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About cistotrans

A Seattle-area trans woman seeking a happy spot to stay at along the path of transition.
This entry was posted in coming out, gender transition, LGBT, self-acceptance, transgender, transition and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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