My gender is a nuisance; a stone in my heel; a slipping sock.
My gender is a nuisance; the rubbed-raw spot on my toe; the tongue-poked chip in my tooth.
My gender is the pulled thread; the stuck zip; the space where my pant leg ends and my sock begins.
My gender is inside-out and back-to-front.
My gender is a nuisance; an unreachable itch; a stiff, uncrackable joint; a ringing in my ears; and a cramp in my leg.
My gender is a locked-in key; a too-high window; a slippery drainpipe.
My gender is a knocked-upon door opened to an empty step.
My gender is a nuisance.