Posts tagged lesbian
the clear vowels rise like balloons
{ sail on, silvergirl }
Off to school, feeling dandy as hell.
It’s so cold, I had to break out the big guns—the stupid looking floppy hat. Look out, world.
Sittin’ and waitin’ till it’s time to go to parties and bars. I always overestimate the amount of time it takes me to get ready.
I’m wearing the outrageous heels, and I won’t be one of those drunk girls stumbling around without shoes. I am not taking my shoes off no matter what. I am married to my shoes.
I’m really digging my look lately—super femme, not giving a fuck about body hair.
I’m on the way to my derby team’s end-of-season/Christmas party. Yay!
Goodbye, longish light hair.
I needed a change.
Girlfriend and I being ye olde lesbians, pre dutch boy hair cut.
Anonymous asked:
Do you have a photo of Girlfriend and you?
I made her have a Photobooth photo shoot with me just for you, anon.
She said, about this picture “We look extra gay. You have on a flannel and I have the haircut of a small dutch boy.”
This weekend Liz and I had a small housewarming dinner and board games get together.
Fun was had. Perhaps I’ll post photos later.
I decided at the last minute that I wanted it to be “fancy”, but I didn’t have time to tell everyone to be fancy too. So I was fancy (and dapper!) alone.
If I wasn’t so ridiculously femme, I’d make such a cute little soft butch.
trying to talk with a man
by Adrienne Rich
Out in this desert we are testing bombs,
that’s why we came here.
Sometimes I feel an underground river
forcing its way between deformed cliffs
an acute angle of understanding
moving itself like a locus of the sun
into this condemned scenery.
What we’ve had to give up to get here –
whole LP collections, films we starred in
playing in the neighborhoods, bakery windows
full of dry chocolate-filled Jewish cookies,
the language of love-letters, of suicide notes,
afternoons on the riverbank
pretending to be children
Coming out to this desert
we meant to change the face of
driving among dull green succulents
walking at noon in this ghost town
Surrounded by a silence
that sounds like the silence of this place
except that it came with us
and is familiar
and everything we were saying until now
was an effort to blot it out –
coming out here we are up against it
Out here I feel more helpless
with you than without you
you mention the danger
and list the equipment
we talk of people caring for each other
in emergencies – laceration, thirst –
but you look at me like an emergency
Your dry heat feels like power
your eyes are stars of a different magnitude
they reflect lights that spell out: EXIT
when you get up and pace the floor
talking of the danger
as if it were not ourselves
as if we were testing anything else
relevant always.
(Source: pasunepipe, via karaj)
i met a boy i like, laneia, and i’m not sure what to do about it. he’s the first (and probably only) boy, and i’m scared the lesbians will think i’m a traitor. should i avoid the situation or see what happens?
you should definitely see what happens.
who gives a shit what the lesbians think.
seriously.
Queer is queer is queer is queer.
We’re all in this together as queer women, even if we sometimes like boys. The worthwhile lesbians won’t consider you any less a part of the community. If they do, fuck them, they’re as bad as the unaccepting straight people.
I became much more secure with my queer identity when I figured this out.
