Te Conozco De Otra Vida

fighting the urge to say thank you for talking to me

hey keep your clothes on i'm going to explain björk's entire discography and the theory of relativity

Unfortunately I am not chill and will fold if you call me princess

Desperately yearning for butch arms and hands

nothing will ever put into words how beautiful, rich and complex the history of butches and femmes is. the way these identities encapsulate the nuance of dyke gender, affection and the inherent longing to be seen - truly seen for who we are, in a world that often times, seems to have forgotten us.

thinking of those who came before us, how the ofos butches would curl a cigarette in their hands, and watch a femme from across the bar with long nails tap her glass, in anticipation of that one moment that tells them both it was all worth it. the gentle smearing of lipstick, the confidence from straightening out a tie. we have always performed for one another, and known each other far beyond the capability or understanding of anyone outside of our community.

i long to see the theatrics, the drawn out gazes filled with the possibilty of something more. the love letters adorned with perfume and spring violets, a gentle hand finding its way underneath the hem of a worn out vest. i long to love and be loved in the only way that we have ever known, with unbridled fervor spilling out at the edges, with the intimacy found beside candlelight and intertwined between satin sheets. the promise that we will always find each other.

i’m the ladybug in your hair 

butchfemme core

to find a butch into primal play

thinking about butches…daydreaming you may say…yearning perchance…