Remodeling
those dykes and their carpentry skills
they bought an old shack out in western adams
put on their gloves and gutted it
the living room here and the liver over there
the heart gripped tight in one hand
the rest spread across the yard like a operating theater
they took it to the studs and they built it to plaster
repiped rewired repainted
and i enter their home
“i love what you’ve done with the place” beaming
somewhere else to place your things after years of being
draped and dressed and drowned
in every shade of pink and purple and rhinestone
hand me downs that handwave the differences
this dykes idea of what it means to be a man in society
the divots and growths,
this spindly hallway and an open kitchen
offshoots and additions, a new bathroom and a half
freedom to grow towards
like a child marking their height in the doorway
like an aching plants leaves spread demure
to the warm breath of the sun
like a wide brim umbrella offering refuge
when beset by a summer tempest
a haven, an oasis, safe harbor
that doesn’t quite fit
but any port in the storm
i’m a man in the way that a butch is a man
his home versus her renovation
am i a man in a suit or a dyke in a suit
and i consider at the mirror
neither quite but
i still fill the silhouette nicely
they bought an old shack out in western adams
put on their gloves and gutted it
the living room here and the liver over there
the heart gripped tight in one hand
the rest spread across the yard like a operating theater
they took it to the studs and they built it to plaster
repiped rewired repainted
and i enter their home
“i love what you’ve done with the place” beaming
somewhere else to place your things after years of being
draped and dressed and drowned
in every shade of pink and purple and rhinestone
hand me downs that handwave the differences
this dykes idea of what it means to be a man in society
the divots and growths,
this spindly hallway and an open kitchen
offshoots and additions, a new bathroom and a half
freedom to grow towards
like a child marking their height in the doorway
like an aching plants leaves spread demure
to the warm breath of the sun
like a wide brim umbrella offering refuge
when beset by a summer tempest
a haven, an oasis, safe harbor
that doesn’t quite fit
but any port in the storm
i’m a man in the way that a butch is a man
his home versus her renovation
am i a man in a suit or a dyke in a suit
and i consider at the mirror
neither quite but
i still fill the silhouette nicely
A.K. Lyna (they/he) is a young queer artist from northeastern Massachusetts, trying their hand at poetry. They enjoy painting, short stories, and geology. Find them on Instagram at @aklyna.art
Beaver Magazine 