Approximations of Gender
I'm a wearer of glasses chains and head coverings and vivid colors that make your eyes burn if you look too long; a creature that looks at gender, skims a bit off the top, then goes on its merry way to reverse-engineer its own gender from the sample. Woman-adjacent but not a woman, man-adjacent but not a man, eternally painting my own gender lines over the dried residue of the older markings; a walking paradox in all its glory.
I'm an alien bedecked in flowers and neon, a body that draws the eyes in the throb of electronic music and screeching synths- ethereal, yet somehow grounded in lights and colors. I'll beckon you through the flashing lights and lead you back to a utility closet, wink, hand you a screwdriver, then tell you to slip up to the sound system and dismantle the speakers.
I'm a girl in the same way that a hammer is a girl- a masculine femininity that gets the job done with care and practicality, a utility belt made of clean leather and carabiners, a backpack with all you'll ever need in it.