Many of Me

How many of me
or those like me
are hovering birdlike,
shimmering above
their bodies, looking
down and knowing
this is not something
to drink from. This
is not a pink dahlia.
This not the body
we can survive off,
but it is all we have.



Ah, that dear terrible
feeling of putting on
a dress. Standing in the
mirror. Watching where it
clings too much. Seeing it
grab my breasts, sling on my
hips like a man. And then
that dear wonderful of
putting on a suit like
putting on a faerie
glamour. Putting on a
spell. Putting on a suit
of armor, except the thing
you are protecting is
not you, and you gleam.


(“Many of Me” first appeared in Eudaimonia Press.)



Hollis Teves is a non-binary queer poet who lives and works in Orange, CA and San Diego, CA. Their work has previously appeared in Calliope, Sapere Aude, The Messy Heads, and elsewhere, and they are the editor-in-chief of The Fruit Tree. Contact them at or on Twitter @unisexlove.