prayer By Victoria Brooks

Now I’m becoming more of a man than ever

Crossing from woman

To the middle, maybe man of centre

I worry to death

that I’m not trans divinity

What if now I’ve healed from him,

I’ve become the devil?

Ol’ Red Face Bruiser spitting in our trash caravan

Intellectual Insect Jaws unfurling

Bone Crusher eating my wings

Sphincter Switchblade

Proffer of a platter swinger-man he,

Mr vein who lives in my conscience to say

you are no better than me

Hear me

Here, me

Make me swagger softly in my binding

Shy cowboy loving

Arms, oh yeah, and voice

Tender masc unmasked

Gentle void winking and blushing

Checked shirt on his knees

Waiting god’s blessings

Should she, that trans femme, find me worthy

ABOUT:

Victoria Brooks/Vic is a queer trans nonbinary writer living in London, and parent to an octopod (2-year-old identical twins). Their first queer sci-fi novel, Silicone God, was published by MOIST Books in the UK (December 2023) and House of Vlad Press in the US (February 2025). They have also published various essays, short fiction and poetry in places like Archer, W0rms, SAND, and Discount Guillotine. Instagram: @queermistresswifehuman

EDITOR'S SONG PAIRING: Alampa -- Caravan