It was my gender ambiguity that you pursued
two and half decades ago.
You were stirred by the arched shape of my brows -
the swish of my locomotion.
Was I a masculine female or a feminine male?
I was your androgyne.

The laws of physics dictate that a compound can not
change from one form to another.
Certainly there must have been warrants out for my arrest.

Nothing good lasts forever - but I wish
we could have had more that just those few weeks
before you departed for another continent. 

Now the pH solution of life has changed me again.
My graying hair short - my rear end flat.
The swish of my locomotion replaced by a gait
that only crumbling knees can give. 

There was no mistaking it when I saw
you on the city sidewalk on this continent
all these years later. Before I could escape
and hide - you called my name. 

Your smile and embrace overwhelmed me.
You flicked at my nonexistent bangs
just like you used to do when they were there.
As if you still desired your androgyne.

Hugh Blanton is a truck loader who combs poems and stories out of his hair during those moments he can steal away from his employer's loading dock. He has appeared in Bottom Shelf Whiskey, Dope Fiend Daily, As It Ought To Be Magazine and other places. He lives in San Diego, California.