No, They-Wee by Sage Agee

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.

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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