In seventh grade, my friend Dorothy got a she-wee for their birthday.
we laughed when they opened it,
secretly giddy at the taste of temporary transition. at the sleepover,
we held the she-wee in our hands like a melting popsicle.
we laughed when they opened it,
the toilet bowl chlorine clean for the party
we held the she-wee in our hands like a melting popsicle,
You go first.
the toilet bowl chlorine clean for the part
I played my hand close to the base, steady.
I go first, pulse plunging
unknown territory.
I played my hand close to the base, ready.
I leave my pants up and place the silicone over my urethra
unknown territory,
pee soaks my ass and sprays shame down my jeans.
I leave my pants up and place the silicone over my urethra,
I think that’s where it is.
pee soaks my ass and sprays shame down my jeans,
Dorothy grabs their birthday she-wee from my wet grip: my turn.
Sage Agee is a queer, nonbinary poet and parent living in rural Oregon. Ze is currently inspired by the works of Billy-Ray Belcourt and the unbelievable evolution of their brand new baby, Otto. Their work has appeared in Goats Milk Magazine and Warning Lines Mag. Twitter: http://twitter.com/sageagee