do you want a sticker?
asks the woman checking me
in at the polls
on Tuesday morning 

i voted-- 
to vote: to return--
to crawl into a booth
on four legs--to become
amphibian-- come back
my gills-- it's time
to swim-- to 
snap the flag pole
in half & call 
it an apology-- who
do we cut ourselves
in half for today? 
i cut myself in half
& called it a voice--
what kind of voice
is the salamander--
our tongues have had
a year to grow
legs & in that year 25 
transpeople were murdered--
are their bodies 
a light on a polling
screen-- i don't hear
their voices--
were they the other
half of the flag poll?
tell me if i'm a fag which
star am i? 
which light on polling
screen?
or maybe that half was 
the 261 black victims 
of police brutality--
yes whose lives are
really blue then?
blue like the pale sky
aching to rip
the flag off the poll--
burn my star out--
whichever one that is--
i voted-- i can't
tell you why i voted--
because if i didn't
i wouldn't have returned--
came back to
the same place my love/body/
poetry/song/amphibian bones/
raw-raped-hips/faggot-glory/
mauve-sky-missiles 
are taken each year to
be snapped in half--
but if you're going
to fuck me-- if you're
going to snap us
in half-- you're going
to have to look 
me in the face while you do--
i've saving each of
these stickers to tape
over my mouth
until my silence turn
rapture--
i will not pretend 
that voting is voice--
or enough to
breathe dead bodies
back into laughter
but i will keep
these stickers--
decorate my naked
skin each morning--
i voted when i woke up
today-- when i 
didn't carve my
sins into my forearms--
when i said here--
this is my candle--
this is all our candles--
breathe softly
with me-- 
i flicker--