Devin Kane

Devin Kane, a queer, disabled, non-binary artist, dabbling in things of the creative persuasion.

IG: @devinkane.art

Skin and Cotton

A curtain of fabric over skin and fat.

Subtle imitation of what you wish were fact. 

Taped into place, space for material sway,

Still tight enough to keep at bay, 

Inconsolable feelings of discontent. 

They call it incongruence, your body’s proprioceptive lament. 

Comforted by soft touch of cotton, 

Are these pieces of you, you long to be forgotten.

How can you forget?

How can you make them forget?

If they promise to forget, are you willing to have the pieces revealed?

Curtain of cotton, fabric from fat, back it is peeled.

Sing your lament to a stranger, 

Sing louder than the accusations of predatory danger, 

With the words that these do not belong to you.

Hope and pray that they deem your declaration true,

That they confirm your sanity, mental clarity.

In lieu of making you public example of unholy depravity. 

So now what? 

Is this all there is to do?

Conceal your complexities when you ask them kindly, 

To trade, for their silence, your money. 

Fork it out, tough it out, 

Even if you do, they’ll still tell you to get out, 

Demand that, for their tolerance, you remain grateful, 

Warn you that there’s still plenty more ways to make you vulnerable.

You, the forever forgotten, last to be prioritised.

When do we help the demonised?