jocelyn vye

A soap dispenser
That senses my hand
The first time I wave
Right away

A welcome mat
Or a speakeasy
Open seating
Hors d’oeuvres on a tray

To be little spoon
On occasion
To be the warm embrace
Most others

Tickets to the symphony
Tickets to the game
Tickets to the gallery
Trips with my brothers

Pretty things
That glint and gleam
The ugly stuff, too
Like gaudy tattoos

To take up space
To be given an inch
To realize a dream
Without threat of a pinch

Celebration
Like a parade, but less
…but maybe not much less

Affirmation
Like “You got this,” but more
…but not all that much more

Hair strokes
And gentle caresses
Oh, and more rugby jerseys
And yes– fine– fabulous dresses

An easy go of it
A tough time, as well

Decency
A tender sense of self
Not to have my softer parts
Stuffed back on a shelf

A smile
Fluffy flowers
A couple of hours with you
A polite nod, if not
That’ll do

Another pair of shoes
Silly me
I meant 
A Voice

A seat at the table
To place the settings
To RSVP “No, thanks”
To ever have the Choice

The breeze on my cheeks
Top down if I dare
Glorious gusts
Through lush billowed hair

A story worth telling
To be the one to tell it
To share it out with care

To be judged 
By the content of my character
On the quality of my contribution
For the force with which I fight

To be Loved
Unconditionally.

When met with the Matter
To have a say in the Matter
Any Matter

To Matter