Love Poem to a Butch Woman (2005)
By Deborah A. Miranda
This is how it is with me:
so strong, I want to draw the egg
from your womb and nourish it in my own.
I want to mother your child made only
of us, of me, you: no borrowed seed
from any man. I want to re-fashion the matrix of creation, make a human being
from the human love that passes between
our bodies. Sweetheart, this is how it is:
when you emerge from the bedroom in a clean cotton shirt, sleeves pushed back
over forearms, scented with cologne
from an amber bottle—I want to open
my heart, the brightest aching slit
of my soul, receive your pearl.
I watch your hands, wait for the sign
that means you’ll touch me,
open me, fill me; wait for that moment
when your desire leaps inside me.
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the earth wrote stories of you.
your hand in mine, our lips together, my hands on your waist, sliding down your thighs in reverent awe, breath passing between us full of love and lust and hope and forever.
you were written for me, and i'll hold you tightly in gratitude.
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I want you like it’s a need
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two days ago, if someone had inquired about my favourite colour, I would have answered sea blue without even thinking about it.
yesterday, however, when my sister asked me, "tai, what's your favourite colour?" i immediately said, "purple."
specifically, royal purple.
i did not say that two days ago you had playfully swiped royal purple paint on my cheek when we were painting the banner for the college fest, mischief lighting up your pretty face. i did not say that i had retaliated, and that both of us had ended up on the floor in a fetal position, stomachs aching with laughter and tears running down our purple-stained faces.
i did not say that you looked celestial, with a smudge of that brilliant colour right on the edge of your bottom lip and cheek covered in three streaks of purple by my hand. i did not say that the way you smiled at me— brown eyes bright, brown hair matted with purple paint and pink lips pulled back to show slightly crooked white teeth— had my heart jumping from my chest to my throat. i did not say that i imagined cupping your cheeks with my purple hands and pulling you into a kiss, soft and gentle and loving.
i entirely avoided explaining to my curious little sister why my favourite colour had changed overnight.
but if anyone asks, my favourite colour is purple.
specifically, royal purple.
.
Tag list: @musaafir-hun-yaaron @orgasming-caterpillar @yehsahihai @hum-suffer @h0bg0blin-meat @mad-who-ra @kanha-sakhi
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"summers hard but I'm trying to be compassionate with myself"
silas denver melvin
Luci Shaw
Sue Zhao
X
C-oldpoison
Mary oliver
Louise Glück
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I know it's early but I need lesbian huskerdust content.
Clarification I'm a baby dyke not some weird fetishy dude. Also I love the guys as they are I just am excited by the realization that they would make a cute butch/femme couple
Just idk something about imagining husk as a handsome woman makes me very flustered.
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Feminine Love
To love through femininity
is a softer kind of love.
The delicate touch of my fingertips,
only wrapping my smallest finger
around yours,
just enough for you to feel me.
The curves of my body,
soft and gentle when I hold you.
Our bodies align like jigsaw pieces,
folding into place
when they find their missing halves.
I wrap pink ribbon around your wrist,
tying the end into a pretty bow,
pressing my lips to your fingertips.
You run your fingers through my hair,
my hands twist yours into braids,
long strands reaching out
begging to be tangled together.
You cradle my face
in your delicate embrace,
so gentle,
like you’re afraid I may break.
Two sets of crimson stained lips
press together.
Soft, sweet, and welcoming
like the pillow I lay my head at night,
I find comfort with my eyes closed.
You smell so sweet,
like fresh flowers in the rain,
I am drowning in you
and drinking you in greedily.
I have never felt a love so earnest,
so real and sincere and true.
I had never known love to be gentle
until I was loved by you.
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