This is a piece of prose I put in my blog on the ButchFemmeDance web-site.

Hands, rough on the outside, toughened by years of forging a path where there was none, yet gentle enough to soothe away ghosts from the past.

Eyes so piercing, send a chill when she looks your way; in them, you see her struggles - a pain so real you flinch.

That short, trimmed hair, lined with silver, making all who see hym take notice of how handsome hy is, belying hy has earned those stripes.

Manners and mannerisms mesh, becoming old school charm; brashness replaced by a quiet confidence that has seen her weather many storms.

Hy will do anything to protect you, a fierce loyalty that is a far cry from the walls hy used in the past to protect hys heart from hurt and betrayal.

They walk among us, blending in to the crowd, yet when I see them, I cannot help but pause, for theirs is a movement that catches my eye, and I yearn to dance.