A man of many mothers

People don't ask me 'Who's the man' anymore
But they always want to know who carried me
Which one's your Real Mam?

As if every stepmother isn't a Real Mam
As if every sister who raised up a younger brother isn't a Real Mam
As if everyone who's adopted or fostered isn't a Real Mam

I could reel off a list of Real Mams longer than a giant's handspan

It's that one, by the way, it's not a secret
I just don't see why it matters

Oh, you've never met anyone with two before?
Two is just a number I choose to share with you who speaks in binary

But when you asked who carried me
I ask why my language has not the words to describe

I'm the child of  a lesbian tribe
I'm a man of many mothers

Mother

They say that we look alike

That our eyes share fire if not colour

That our feet are made for marches

Our hearts have weathered darkness

That our wrinkles come from smiling

And our calluses from jiving

But I’ve never felt more like you

Until I ran through a sea of indifference

And feigned ignorance

After a woman fleeing her husband

Statistics slipping from his clenched fists

Tapping

You always knock when you come into my dreams

Appear when life is fraying at the seams

And I can hear you tapping

As you batten down the hatches

And hollow out my bones

Cos you believe that I can fly

And this tapping is a code

Which isn’t Morse of Five by Five

It is the scrape of chisel  

Carving sigils down my sides

And you don’t even try to hide

No, your handiwork is labelled

You stamped Runes along my spinal cord

Proclaiming I am able

You give form to thought which was before

A figment

Or a fable

And for all of this I’m yours and I remain immensely grateful 

Stationary

They told me that stationery would become my life

But for the first time in years I am moving forward

I will buy rubbers and rulers

But not to keep myself straight and ordered

My highlighters will not gloss over my past

I no longer need a compass to find my way home

I discovered a scar on my face

But couldn’t tell if it was from Chickenpox

Or if I’d cut myself shaving this morning