When did you come out

When did you come out

of the shower this morning
fully formed in the image
of a rubber ball, a whip crack,

and yesterday before a mirror
trimmed the creeping on my upper lip.

Last week, tucked my
folds into slick velvet, and ate
a real-deal business lunch,

and this winter I braced against the cold,
sheathed my lashes with mascara.

For that matter, I’ve been raising
heeled boots against the world
for a while now.

     Once, I suppose, my parents spun a confession
          from me on a remote path, my nakedness
               just audible over the rustle of sun-dappled leaves…

But I come out to myself
a thousand times before you behold me
descending to the sidewalk, footsteps slapping upwards
to the taut blue sky.