everyone deals with consequences
(9/14)

But each night ends, of course, with dawning.

The sky goes pink then yellow then bright,

and Keiko awakes, stretching and yawning,

on a sofa-bed bathed in delicate light.

It’s half past eight. The mattress is spiny.

with uncoiling springs, and also tiny,

almost procrustean: her feet extend

a significant distance over the end.

She crawls out of bed, and goes looking

and finds some Folgers classic roast,

thoughtfully provided by the absent host,

and mutters to herself —“Well now we’re cooking,”

and makes some coffee, and is going to pour

it out when she hears a key in the door.

Gaia bursts in, still attired

in last night’s clothing, her makeup smeared:

—“Oh hi! Oh God, I’m so fucking wired,

I bought some coke, which just disappeared.

Is that coffee? Gimme! I’m craving.

Oh shit, I forgot: have I been behaving

badly? You were kind of emotional last night.”

—“I was. I mean, I am. You’re right . . .

but so, like what . . . what happened with Baker?”

—“Oh, would you believe, he’s all top in the streets

but you get him in bed, he’s a bottom in the sheets?

And a whiny bottom! More like Faker.

I left. I was all like, bye girl, bye.

And to think I’d been so obsessed with that guy!”

—“Wait, that’s it? You haven’t stopped talking

about him for months!” —“I know, what a bust!

All that plotting and cyber-stalking!

I guess I was carried away by lust.

But you can’t trust boys. I shouldn’t forget that!

And you’re one of the people I’ve met that

I trust the most. But I’m not sure I get

what I’ve done that made you upset.”

—“I maybe can’t handle this conversation.

I’m sorry. I had a kind of intense

night last night, and I haven’t made sense

of whatever happened. The situation

is just . . . I don’t know what to say.”

—“What’s going on? Are you okay?”

—“Oh yeah, I’m fine. It’s no big deal.

I had an encounter, okay, I kissed,

or maybe had sex, with Day, and I feel,

oh fuck, it’s all so hard to untwist.”

—“You hooked up with Day? That’s very . . . exciting?”

—“It was weird. She was like, all groping and biting

and we went to the bathroom, and she seemed to think

she was gonna, like, fuck me over the sink,

but it hurt too much . . . I was so embarrassed . . .

then she went down on me for too long,

or perhaps it was me, I was doing it wrong . . .”

—“Keiko! You were sexually harassed!”

—“What? No I wasn’t. It wasn’t that bad.”

—“Keiko, how much sex have you had?”

—“Well, not that much.” —“Right, I suspected.”

—“I slept with a cis girl once, or I tried.

It didn’t work out . . .” —“You’re so unprotected!

I know you think I tricked you or lied,

but if you’re trans there’s so much growing

up to do. We come out not knowing

the things that cis girls learn in their teens

about being a girl and what that means.

I’m maybe two or three years older

that you, but I’ve been out four years more.

I’ve been round the block. I know the score.

And also I’m like, not stronger, but . . . bolder?

Whatever. You’re just so easy to hurt.

Which is why I didn’t want us to flirt.”

—“Well, but I mean, I think I’m learning,

Or how do I learn if I can’t explore . . .”

—“Okay, I’m sorry you thought I was spurning

your advances that time. But the point is you’re

a victim. Last night you were sexually assaulted,

and sexual abuse must immediately be halted

wherever it happens. We just can’t let

abusers off, because if they get

away with it once, they continue abusing.

I’m here, as your friend, to offer support,

but also I really think that you ought

not to be forced into minimizing or excusing

what happened to you. You mustn’t be weak.”

Her eyes are shining. “You get to speak.”

—“Okay, well it’s nice you want to support me,

But I don’t . . . I mean what do you want me to say?”

—“I’m a Dungeon Monitor. That’s taught me

a lot about this. I’m sure there’s a way

I can help, whether that means providing

an ear, or a voice. I’m so glad you’re confiding

in me, that you told me what happened to you.

I hear you, I believe you. What you’re saying is true.”

—“But I’m not sure . . .” —“Don’t worry, you’ll question

yourself. Like, trauma makes you doubt.

You need to recover. I have a suggestion!

You can stay anonymous, and I’ll put out

a call-out post. I know what to do.

I’ll obtain restorative justice for you!”

Elsewhere, at this moment, I wake up feeling

very unusual. Do I feel . . . content?

But I’m also nervous, as if I’m stealing,

or living in a place where I can’t make rent.

Kate wakes as well, and we pass some hours

wandering around among the towers,

in summer Philly, just the two of us.

We eat, we kiss, then we get the bus,

and then Kate goes home. There’s no postponing

the matter any longer. As she goes inside

she’s in a position where she has to decide

whether she will be concealing or owning

up to her actions. She doesn’t balk.

—“Aashvi,” she calls, “we need to talk.”

—“What is it?” —“Okay, I have a confession.

I hooked up with someone. We didn’t have sex,

but you know that I’ve been having depression,

and if this happened, then it all connects.

Of course in theory our relationship’s poly

but this wasn’t an impulsive act of folly,

or it was, but it came from a place of need.”

Aashvi, who had been beginning to read

a detective novel, newly acquired,

while applying a face mask, and drinking a cup

of milky coffee, is curled up

on their modernist sofa, comfortably attired

in her pajamas. She stares, then blinks,

but doesn’t reply. She stops. She thinks.

Some moments pass. The air’s vibrating

with tension, or more to the point, it’s not,

and Kate is clearly having trouble waiting.

—“You’ve gone all silent. Tell me! What?”

—“The way you’re behaving is highly erratic.

You’re engineering some kind of dramatic

confrontation between you and I.

You want a fight. So I’m wondering, why?”

—“Aashvi, fuck’s sake, I mean like fucking

fuck, you know what the problem is here

but whenever I raise it you always steer

the conversation off, or find ways of ducking

the issue, or you find a way to make

it all about me. It’s too much to take!”

—“Well, clearly you’re not committed to maintaining

moderation here. Instead it appears

I am dismissive . . .” Kate’s barely restraining

herself from sobs: visible tears

pour from her eyes, her cheeks glisten.

—“You’re always judging and you never listen!

I don’t want a baby! I think it’s weird.

And being off hormones is worse than I feared,

and I can’t say it because disagreeing

with you is scary. You’re so smart and stern

you know all these things I’m supposed to learn,

and maybe you’re perfect, but I can’t keep being

totally absorbed in your perfect life,

as your social justice trophy wife!”

—“But we’re not married.” —“That’s not the issue!

You’re doing it again!” She can barely speak.

Aashvi proffers a box. —“Do you need a tissue?”

Kate takes it, wipes the tears from her cheek,

blows her nose —“I can’t keep spending

my energy supporting you and blending

into your world. I can’t invest

in cisness any more. I need a rest.

I don’t have energy for educating

a cisgender kid. I need to be

in community with other people like me.

I’m trans, and I’m done with assimilating.”

—“And yet you thought it quite alright

for me to invest in someone white?”

—“Okay, I’m wrong and bad and your virtue

is greater than mine. I’m glad that’s clear.”

—“Kate, what is this, how have I hurt you?”

—“You haven’t, you’re perfect and just and austere

and you don’t have to pay me any attention.

If I’m being awkward some condescension

will shut me up. You don’t have to care

that I’m so unhappy. Just say I’m unfair,

and point out the flaws in my argumentation,

and things can go on just like before.”

—“Now Kate, enough! I won’t endure

this barrage of unwarranted castigation.

This isn’t okay. You can’t just behave

in such a manner. It’s very grave.”

—“Well yeah, I realize you think I’m making

a fuss over nothing, but you know, I’m not.”

—“Kate, what is this, are you breaking

up with me? Is that honestly what . . .”

—“No, I don’t think we’re like, ending,

or at least, I mean, I wasn’t intending . . .

but I need to go back on hormones again,

I just can’t survive without estrogen . . .”

—“But everything’s planned! We’re having a baby!”

—“We can put it on hold. I need some space.

I think I should maybe move out of this place

just for a while, to try it, then maybe

we can try again . . . oh I don’t know,

but I’m going out. I’ve got to go.”

—“Kate don’t leave, you’re making an error!”

But Kate’s already begun her flight,

her bag in her hand. The look of terror

that Kate is wearing is quite a sight

(at least, in my imagination).

I don’t think she expected this confrontation

to so decisively escalate.

Once she’s outside the building, Kate

sends me a text, with a desperate appeal

to stay at mine. As I eagerly agree,

elsewhere, contemporaneously,

Day, unaware of the ordeal

she’s about to be required to endure,

has just come through her apartment door.

Bette’s inside, agitatedly pacing.

—“Oh Day, oh fuck me, what did you do?”

—“What do you mean?” Bette replies by embracing

her tightly, then asks —“Are they really true?”

—“Are what really true?” —“The accusations!

Oh my god, have you checked your notifications?”

—“Well no, my phone is out of juice.”

—“You’ve been accused of sexual abuse!

—“By who?” —“Well look, by that girl, Gaia.

Wait, did she tag you? She didn’t! That’s low.

You’re being accused and you don’t even know.”

—“We’ve barely met! She’s a fucking liar.”

—“No look, she says ‘the victim preferred

to not be named.’ She’s just ‘spreading the word.’”

—“Well who could it be? I mean it’s Philly,

I fucked a couple of people I met,

so I don’t, like, know. Like, this is silly!

How am I supposed . . . oh shit, I bet

it’s this girl, Keiko who was like, obsessing

over Gaia, and you know, just stressing

out, and thinking she had no allure

because she liked a girl who didn’t like her.

And like, I’ve been there, I know about hating

yourself, so I thought if we did some stuff

it would boost her confidence. I wasn’t rough,

like all I was doing was demonstrating

she could be attractive, like, sexually.

You know, like the way you did with me.”

—“Oh. My god. Are you, like, stupid?

I don’t know how to even respond.

Your dick’s not an arrow of fucking cupid

or some kind of dick-shaped magic wand.

You think you’re some kind of sexual savior,

or that she’d be grateful for this behavior?

You can’t fuck people because you think you should:

if desire’s not selfish then desire’s no good.”

Day looks completely confused and dejected

like someone just kicked her when she thought she’d be fed.

She puts both her hands on top of her head.

—“This is all going wrong. I never expected . . .

so what do I do? Perhaps if I call

Keiko on the phone we can talk through it all?”

—“Day, I would really advise you not to.”

—“But if we could just talk, she could hear my side,

we could sort this out. I mean I’ve got to

do something about this. I can’t just hide.

I mean, like look, this post is claiming

I ‘attacked her in a bathroom.’ It’s aiming

to make me sound like some rapist guy!

Why is she letting Gaia lie

about me like this? It’s bad. It’s vicious.”

—“Day, it’s natural that you’re upset

but they’re already suggesting that you’re a threat.

It’ll only make you look more suspicious

if you try to call her when she’s made it clear

she doesn’t want you anywhere near.”

—“Well thanks for being sympathetic.

Jesus, Bette, I’m struggling here.

And I mean, I’d be apologetic . . .

oh wait, hold on, I have an idea!

What if you called up Keiko for me?

I understand that they could ignore me,

but everyone listens to what you say,

you can make this stop . . .” —“Uh-uh. No way.”

—“You need to tell them, I never desired . . .”

—“You need to respect people’s boundaries.”

—“But Bette, I need you to help me, please!”

Bette suddenly looks extremely tired.

She sits on the sofa. —“This is too much stress.

Why is your life always such a mess?”

And one, and then the other, starts weeping,

whether from weariness or from pain.

After a humid summer of keeping

things held together, tears fall like rain,

which also, coincidentally, starts falling.

I’m closing my window when I hear Kate calling

up from the street: —“Hey let me in!

I walked from the subway. I’m soaked to the skin.”

I gaze at her, as she stands waiting.

Around her feet raindrops burst,

small explosions, and a powerful thirst

appears in my body, as exhilarating

and uncontrolled as it is strange.

The weather is turning. Time for a change.