Member-only story
Pulse Beneath the Freeze (Bi+ Poetry)
I am…Defiant to the spectators and passersby. My presence is but a whisper against curtains of snow, so profound that even an emboldened sun, in its ardent sweep, fails to thaw the ice which encases my voice.
The world spins, oblivious to the spectrum of our being, as if our breath sculpts ice mid-air, so that our story never reaches their heart. Each exhalation testament to the cold — reason for them to retreat to the warmth of monosexism.
Erasure wraps around us like nightfall, reducing our essence to the wraith-like, But there is pulse beneath the freeze.
An ember of defiance endures deep within, resistant to winter. This chill shrouds our skin, it may break our bones, our limbs may be severed from frostbite, but the core of who we are — it persists.
It remains.
Knowing prevails against void.
We survive, not from the promise of summer, but with resilience that burns like embers.
Glowing.
Pulsating.
Behind this sheet of ice, we dream of becoming puddles of past prejudices. One day we will swim in new oceans of empathy.
Truth in our eyes.
