Author: Annie Kim

I want to be a boy, you tell the man who analyzes you. Free of desire. He nods, light flashing off his thin gold spectacles.                                                                                                 No one called the singing boys                                                                                                 castrati to their face. So evirato,                                                                                                 meaning one unmanned,                                                                                                 musico: one making music. Boys aren’t free of desire, of course—                                                                                                 Though not by ordinary…