Gender Studies 207

Stepping in my sister’s dress does not make me a geisha. I couldn’t make a magazine, even if you did my make-up and paraded me through pageants and ordered my legs closed. My lips were made for kisses; my hips were made to hold with both hands trying for the kingdom, for the promise of the soul. The lovely don’t stay pretty, even made-up girls get old and left with nothing but twelve stories about twelve men they turned down. If I were smoother, I’d look better – if the thin straps of this gown were only sewn a little wider – matched my shoulders and inspired some ungendered note of beauty – if instead of seeing through me you are forced to think that truly here is someone who is happy with themself.

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~ by perfectionatrix on April 26, 2012.

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