lukas ray hall

i didn’t tell my best friend i was non-binary because we were bros

when i run my hand 
through water, 

which sensation 
should I be feeling? 

the relief 
of a summer night, 

Minnesota cool, or 
the consuming feeling? 

that all of you 
is submerged

& sure, you can 
pull it out 

whenever you please, 
but for a moment 

you are surrendered 
to the lake. 

when i talk to the sky, 
should i be shouting?

it really doesn’t matter. 
i guess he knows now.

what gender do you dream

when you dream of me?
liberated tree all petal’d out 

like the wind did its thing 
like the rest of us wishing 

we were. hands cupped 
in the backyard pool. 

i was a boy, 
so i guess so was you. 

you catch a leaf 
in your hand, too soggy,

& it laminates your palm. 
becomes a second skin 

before it dissolved off 
into the water. 

you guess you a boy 
& i’m a boy.  

in your dreams, 
i’ll always be a boy. 

the leaf will always 
be a leaf. even when 

you saw it flutter off 
& become something else 

entirely.