Outside my window:

I saw a beautiful man today:

A young man came home with his friend. They got out of the truck and two little girls ran up to them. I couldn't hear what was said: a silent movie in a way these children will never know. The first little girl ran up to him, a child knowing, getting to know, wanting to know what it is to be a woman she talks to him then turns her back to him. She didn't cross her arms across her non-existent chest: she held them out from her sides. He smiled and grasped her by the arm pits and lifted. Her face lit like the sun, her arms and legs spread in the air as she looked like a star, a tree, a cheerleader, the dancer and fighter that she is. His height was small next to her glow, and he lifted her higher than his head. Then the other girl, taller and you could see the awkwardness that she was living in: skinny and growing and she will be so beautiful one day. She came to him with no words, only presented her back to him and he lifted: his smile was as great as the joy and gratitude on her face. She lit like a ballerina en jette.

They walked into the building together: all of them small and large and whole and apart. Not knowing I existed and watched and envied and cried for their beauty and friendship.

That is what I saw today. This is why I didn't die today, although they almost killed me.