you’re in the blood room
where they drain you for samples
to see if you’re eating girl candies right.
i glance at your throat & hands
til they call my old name.
under fluorescent
and nursing coos
i give my oblation
but now you’ve faded when i exit
thru the wastes of waiting room.
down the road, though, i see you
with your tall girlfriend—
hey uhm sorry you’re trans right i just got tested for hormones and?
you said:
you don’t ask people that.
if you need to talk to someone,
go to the support group at the clinic.
i was young then & didn’t understand
the struggles of strange-looking women
& you know what?
fuck you bitch!!!!!
you think you don’t owe me??
i’ve killed a man for you. i’ve murdered.
my hands stained to resemble yours.
an eternal blood winter.
i make a vow to you now—
upon our fated blood pact
in the bio waste disposal bin
awaiting, like the devil, our discrete vials,
i swear i will hunt you down
in dark corners
my teeth showing at the edges
of your vision
and you and i will have coffee
on a sunday.
Gwen Aube’s debut collection arrives in spring 2026 with LittlePuss Press. She is a 2025 Doris McCarthy Artist-in-Residence with the Ontario Heritage Council, a Kevin Killian scholarship recipient for the Jack Kerouac School, and the author of the chapbook Pulp Necrosis (above/ground press, 2025). She is currently crustpunkily floating through North America while her belongings live in a 4x4x4 locker in Montreal, Quebec. You can follow her on Instagram.
