The Length of an Arm
We don’t measure distance
in units like inches or
miles or light-years but
in the strain in your smile
when I mention my breasts
the half-swallowed breaths
drunk from our silences
the arc your nose traces
with the turn of your face
the length of your arm
your raised palm demarcating
intimacy’s border: just
here, and no closer.
A Maine native but an academic gypsy for most of her adult life, Anastasia Walker is a poet, essayist, and scholar who lives and works in Pittsburgh. Trans-themed poems of hers have appeared or are forthcoming in several journals. Through 2016-17, she blogged for Huffington Post on trans and LGBTQ+ issues, and she has recently begun posting similarly themed pieces on Medium. She volunteers for the Transgender Law Center’s Prison Mail program, and is a proud member of her community’s Indivisible group. She’s committed in both her work and life to furthering a broader and deeper understanding of what it means to be trans. Twitter: @staswalker22