[Alternative Title: I wish there was a plural male pronoun.]
Their lips were different than hers.
All lips had the same eagerness and desire,
Except mine when they didn’t meet hers.
Her lips were different than theirs.
She met me where I was,
Not devouring past the moment.
After her lips,
Their lips were distant memories.
More Lesbian Poetry:
How I Knew I Was a Lesbian at 4 Years Old
Femme vs. Butch | Internalized Homophobia
Looks of longing
Pain connect us
Past generations hear us
Their words repeat back to us
Ringing true in our ears
How long must it last,
An artform taken from despair?
One day all Sapphics won’t be poets,
But all poetry is Sapphic