My femininity is a cloud

It's soft and I like the way it brightens my sky

But might dissolve in a few minutes

Or turn dark, who knows

But for now it's pure.

My masculinity is there

I don't hate it at the moment

My confidence in my cloud

Has brought him along

As a passenger.

I like myself today.

But tomorrow?

Tomorrow I'll wake in a different brain.

My soul will be there, sure

But I can't plan my wardrobe

'Cause soon I might find it gross

And I won't recognize the handwriting

On yesterday's notes.

I guess I'll go to bed.

We'll see if I like

who I am tomorrow.