Virago

Fettering some sideshow slideshow of... entropy? Sybaritic woman, contextual man. Beneath sequestered silk (it's a secret, shh) and lion-like stoicism is bald vacillation.

Honey-streaked hair coats the illustrated facade of a weakening plot. Reduction is compromise, and self-help masking is a surety for fucks sake.

Twinning as duopolistic thespians DOUBLING on the rise ↑↑↑ and fall ↓↓↓ in the role of my lifetime. Act it out, scene it all, cut so the light refracts grit beneath the chase.

And the ego of a liege buoys me beyond truth. Bedridden and hidden, fetal position posits gray matter North, South, East, unto a wild West of pRoBlEmAtiC PoSsiBiLiTiEs.

Openmouthed, do I speak?-

NEVER aver, NEVER orate its name. Even when weakness exhales like compressions of placeholder breaths per minute in besleeved perdition. Quietus is my only co-star.

"Gender is absolute"

"Male or female"

"Binary opposition"

Engendering a life as bigender, my guised truth of eidetic can-I-or-can't-I? An envisioning version, bold and brave until the end credits roll like tensile beginnings.

My new script beckons; the mask must come off.

(c) Edward Swafford 2025

*Title image by Wesley Souza from Pexels.