It Is

It is to be said
It needs to be said

Women can love each other
It is “ok”
It is forthright
a way of the Universe
A force and an expression
A form of magic
Very wonderful, applicable,
practical and beautiful magic

Sleeping beneath a tree
I have seen us
as women in love with each other
Grappling, entwined and carnal
The tree has seen us this way
Continues to see us
And wants to see us

Two women loving each other
In branches enveloping
In giving shade and shelter
In standing by for the
ways and days of solitude
and growth

Two women loving each other

Angel Land to LBD

They call it lesbian bed death,
that is what I’m living,
from the highest highs of Angel Land
to the lows of being left alone and neglected.
I don’t have all those “real” woman parts
so it makes sense that
no “real” woman who’s a lover of “real” women
would want to touch me and my odd parts.

I know there’s one woman out there
who is an authentic sapphic
who wasn’t molested or abused by a man,
or who is not grossed out by the male parts
or who doesn’t only lust singularly for woman parts
… who will love me as a woman,
and adore and cherish me for my femme self,
tend to me like the flowers of Spring.

I know there’s one woman out there

… maybe one.

To get to Angel Land from LBD
you turn left in the shadows of the summer night
and lay waiting in the stillness of darkness,
alone with a partner in bed,
bearing fecund hope in your firm, perky
hormonal breasts,
sometimes with tears pooled softly in your eyes
as your breathe lost into sleep.

As A Woman #2

As a woman
I’m learning
to apologize
over every little thing
and notice how other women
apologize for inane things too…
like sorry for turning the light on too quickly
sorry for cooking too much food,
sorry for placing ketchup on the wrong area
of the plate for a kid,
sorry for having a rough day.
Sorry, sorry, sorry,
I’ll try again, I promise. Tomorrow.
I apologize.

Thankfully though,
as a woman
I’m also learning
that it is absolute bullshit
for us to be apologizing all the time
over passengerless, stupid shit.

Love As A First Time Lesbian

Sometimes there’s love.
Sometimes it goes away.
Sometimes I’m waiting again.
Sometimes I try another day.

Sometimes I return.
Sometimes I stay.
Sometimes the sex
makes my mind a spiritual kind of place.

Sometimes there’s madness.
Sometimes it’s divine.
Sometimes there’s hurt.
Sometimes it’s just fine.

Sometimes I lose my faith.
Sometimes I have to pray.
Though always I know I’m gay.
And always I can’t let go,
as weak or strong that is
to admit to say.

Yeah, this love is weak and strong.
There’s no veneer.
No going through the motions.
Yes, there’s weak.
And there’s also strong.
Right here all along.
This ain’t no hetero kind of nonsense,
trying to keep up appearances for
society or family.

This love is weak and strong.
Grab my wrists babe, lead me on.

[For National Poetry Month, why not celebrate, shine light on, and be real about Sapphic love? 🤷🏻‍♀️]

As A Woman #1

As a woman
I am learning
to be deprived of my
emotional needs.
Though, still I say them. I show them.
I’m transparent about them.
Sometimes I infer or hint at them,
but I don’t hide them,
because that’s what women do
and how we live.
It’s almost always obvious
to others when
we’re “off” or “shaken”.
Because of course, we’re “weak”
or not strong enough to lift
the heavy stones to build those walls
around ourselves.
And so we endure being left
by both male and female lovers
to be loved underwhelmingly
and from that some of us learn
to love ourselves, others, and the universe
very deeply.