roller skate baby

in the back of your car 
we ate our shoelaces. 
me, the backup friend 
& you a girl with electric fruit. 
back then, everyone was roller-skating 
their way into a television show
while i tried to learn
how to clip my fingernails.
i had a museum of bathroom mirrors
waiting for me every time i opened
my closet. i hate the idea 
of queerness & transness as a secret
or a confession. still, i wanted to tell you
so badly that i liked girls & boys.
you were sucking on a ring pop
listening to the alternative radio station.
 my body is a gumball machine. 
you had asked me
if i liked any boys. i said, "yes"
& in my head i thought, 
"sarcophagus." in the roller rink 
parking lot your lips were blue.
i said the boy's name which was,
"destination." you furrowed 
your brow & looked like you wanted
to reply, "i do not know him."
you held my hand as girls do.
as girls do, right? walking into
the neon toothed parking lot.
we were what, seventeen? still
made of pop rocks. i craved
to ask, "do you want to practice 
kissing?" we had done this before
on sleepovers & on bedroom floors.
instead i noted your stretched shadow.
licorice asphalt. streetlamp glow,
illuminating your face.