To the person in my aisle
To the person in my aisle picking up the box of mini wheats, I know.
To the person in my aisle who my mom had to look at twice to see if they were a boy or girl,
I understand.
To the person in my aisle who people won’t stop whispering about,
don’t feel alone.
Every time I see someone like you I can’t help but smile,
even though I looked away when you looked at me in fear of being called weird.
I did smile.
My eyes lit up
And i has to suppress every thought telling me “call them beautiful”
I know the stares
I know the double takes
I get the wrong pronouns.
I wanted to take your hand, squeeze it tightly and say “ I love the new you “
So to the person in my aisle to took a look at me up and down and smiled that all knowing smile,
we’re one in the same. Have a good day.
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