Lot Lo Bianco

THE CLOTHES IN OUR CLOSETS

Mum,
put the brown jacket in the parcel,
please.

Dad knows,
he doesn’t mind me
taking his clothes.
Instead, I see your gaze.

I don’t want anything from yours.
I just take, when I needed to disguise.
Don’t be sad about it.
Let my brother take it.

Do you remember, bro?!
We said ‘they swapped us,
the angels got confused’.
Your soul
should have been
in my body.
How is it possible,
they didn’t noticed,
we wondered.

I know now, they knew.

We were not mistaken,
and so we swapped the rules too.

You took the unwanted dolls
and the pity of the softness,
the stigma of the femme.

I robbered you
of your assigned at birth masc pride,
and those rare toys.
But remember,
I took your duties as well,
giving up to my right
to be fragile.

They acted quite normal,
Mum and Dad.
They knew it as well?

Not the others though,
the question mark on their eyes
killed me,
many times.

‘oh this is your boy, I thought it was the younger’

Every time you corrected them.
The shame of misgendering
choked me.

‘this is the boy floor, honey!’
stop that whisper
in my ears.

Was the same for you,
In the flower shop,
Bro?!

Dad spoiled you even there.
Your tears were not a shame.

They granted you not to care.
I envied you,
Called you faggot in my head.

I guess you called me fucking dyke as well
when you couldn’t ride with dad.

You forgot
Or you dont want to remember
We lost each other
In this gender dillemma

Bro,
So proud when you went through my closet
You took a sweet revenge
an exchange for your boxers
-but you’ll never know.

They named your gayness
Royalty
They made you that blanket

I guess i didn’t need
any protection

But still
I love you, Bro

          – Lot Lo Bianco