FLUID

No mirror is truly neutral. Symmetry is always false, subordinating the smaller half to the larger, suffocating both. Just one a little more so.

To breathe, disparity is needed, for opposites to finally not coincide but do something more important: stand back-to-back, refuse the capture of the gaze. I am not your reflection. My reflection points elsewhere, it does not return my gaze. Nor yours.

And if everything is fluid, my gender is an exodus without origin; I can go back and thankfully not find myself where you've placed me.
No deviation can be sanctioned. The only punishment is to harden, to force the future to arrive prematurely, to fossilize.

Male and female, two ways to become extinct if we confuse them for a destiny. The only punishment is to stop walking.