I am I – Pair O'Dice

I am Aias. I taught Cleon what I know
of war and love and wisdom. Now his beard begins to show,
and I do not want to shame him, so I’ll have to let him go,
but what I tell him never comes out as ‘goodbye’.
I know well there will be others; I won’t have to be alone,
but I’ve prized him as a youth, and come to love him now he’s grown.
For him it’s almost time he took a pais of his own,
but he just looks at me and asks me: “Who am I?”

Chorus: (hummed)

I’m Melina, but you’ll never know that name,
for only Jeanne will use it, where no ears can hear our shame,
when all doubts and fears lie dormant and we needn’t play our game
as we love in secret groves and fields of rye.
Then she helps me don my breeches and she binds my breasts and frowns,
brooding on the news of pyres in Valence and other towns.
“We’re not men!” I say – she huffs: “Will you be saved by plaits and gowns?”
And when no answer comes, she turns away to cry.

Chorus:
I am I am I am I
I am I am I am I
I am I am I
I am I

I’m Akuma. I’m 3rd gender. I feel handsome in this dress.
I’m Latifa. She’s called Rym. My sons and spouse must never guess.
I am Sin-Sumu. I love men. Why would you care?
I am Jenel. What’s unalike won’t make a pair.
I am Hermann, and my name is on the list.
In my nightmares, I see numbers on my wrist.
I’m Nahimana, in whom two spirits live,
there is balance in my being
as truth is in my seeing
and in the names I give.

I am Lily. My friends say I should be proud.
Half disgusted, half intrigued they’re watched when they’re kissing in a crowd.
“Sticks and stones!” they laugh, but all those words are rather rude and loud –
if that’s what being ‘out’ is like, I’d rather lie.
But then mum’s red eyes are staring at the child she’s never seen,
“Where did I fail?” she cries. She’s found the e-mails from Charlene.
So much guilt and love and loss and I’m stuck somewhere in between. . .
I guess it’s time I grew some wings and learned to fly.

Chorus:
I am I am I am I
I am I am I am I
I am I am I
I am I