Aidan Castle
tidelands
He thinks no one wants to date a pregnant trans man. A friend convinces him to download the app. I just got dumped. Hard. Via text. Not looking for anything serious. We figure we’ll have some fun. Kill time. Part ways.
moon snail . . .
the driftwood log
etched with tunnels
I am there when his water breaks. Hugging him. Holding his hand on the freeway. I watch the baby shoot into this world. Hold him. Fill out the birth certificate form while they sleep. My name is not on it. But in toothless smiles and small hours of the night, he becomes my son.
About the Author
Aidan Castle is a queer trans writer and artist whose work has appeared in various journals and his books driftwood atlas and the gossamer. His special interests include one-liners, surrealism, and haibun. When not writing, Aidan enjoys hiking, camping, drinking coffee, and staring out into the fog. He lives in the Pacific Northwest with his family.
I’m struck by the way this haibun distills such a complex story. The ebb and flow from pain to connection. The haiku transition point is perfect.
Hello Aiden,
Kate has said it well. I can add as giving birth to four children, I could feel your words as you described your feelings “he became my son”, so valid and beautiful. Karina