words about her

prose, poetry and thoughts about wlw experiences

[wordsabouther]

I still feel you on my lips hours later

[wordsabouther]

It's the second last day of winter and the sun is out. I ride the train to her work with a box of doughnuts in my hands, waiting in the shade of her yellow car on the edge of the parking lot. When she arrives, smiling, she picks the red velvet doughnut first. We have one hour and thirty minutes. We drive to the post office to pick up a package; it's her pass for the water park that's opening again, signalling the start of the summer season. She places the parking permit in her car window, proudly smoothing out the sticker's rainbow trim. We have enough time left that we can go inside instead of racing through the drive-thru. In line she stands right behind me, so close that her shoulder presses gently into my back. I lean back and let her take my weight for a few seconds before she playfully pushes me forward. It takes forever to decide what we want to eat. On the highway the sun warms the inside of her yellow car. She drives the whole way with one hand on the steering wheel and the other on my leg. She only lets go of me when she has to make the final turn off and bring us back into the carpark. Despite the way my pale blue t-shirt sticks to my back with sweat, the place where her hand rested now feels freezing cold.

We say goodbye, see you on Friday, outside in front of the bistro's big glass doors. She clutches the doughnut box in her hands as I hold her waist. 'Thank you for coming,' she says. 

'Of course.'

[wordsabouther]

You're never prepared for the way that she hugs you, almost throwing herself to let you take some of her weight as she wraps both arms around you. It's a trust hug, an "I like you" hug, a fearless embrace that forces you both to sway for a few steps. Somehow you forget that she hugs like this, but it's better that way because each time you meet she makes you laugh in surprise, with this hug that explains how happy she is to see you better than anything she could say.

[wordsabouther]

one of the best things about dating is discovering how she likes to express herself; all the ways she's creative, all the ways she's romantic, all the ways she'll tell you she cares without saying any words

[roones]

this short film is amazing and cute as heck and doesn’t have enough views

[wordsabouther]

Lying in bed with her, her arm hugging your waist, nose buried in the back of your shirt, you’ll slide your bare feet further under the sheets to find hers.

At the touch of skin on skin she’ll pull you closer.

Somehow it’s always magically possible to be closer.

[roones]

things I’m learning as a young wlw

When you tell a close friend that you are dating someone, you will expect to be met with happiness and intrigue; instead you will be met with brief politeness that becomes apathy.  It will hurt. 

The new-crush excitement of telling people who you’re dating will be all-too-often crippled by a debilitating fear of their unpredictable reaction. Your own mind will exhaust you. 

You will hold her hand in public and wonder if your heart is beating fast for the thrill of being so close to her or the concern over who might be looking.  You will try to focus on the first feeling. 

You will question your feelings, your emotions, your reactions, and fail to find any stability when you flounder because nothing tangible is comparable; none of the media and the websites and the real examples in your life tell you anything about what it’s really like to love and be loved by a girl.  It will be scary. 

You will begin to realize how different you are to everyone else; you won’t have a family reunion like theirs, won’t have a wedding like theirs, won’t have a future like theirs.  It will be lonely. 

People you thought were your friends will turn you into their project, their gossip, their prayer point, their exception to the rule.  You will learn a new kind of heartbreak. 

Her mother will not invite you over, will not care to meet you. It won’t bother you, and it will.

Your mother will text you to say, “Tell her we’re looking forward to meeting her.” It will make you cry.  

She will take your hand and teach you how to hold your head high. You will learn the meaning of pride. 

You will come to understand that there is nothing more powerful and pure than love, because the world will make you fight with everything you have for the raw joy of loving her. And you will. 

You will learn that she is worth all the pain other people put you through. You will learn that love is worth all of it and more. 

[sunlesbianthings]

If her scent was a color it was pink; almost red. Sweet and clean, candy cinnamon and sunset. Pink like the flush in her freckled cheeks and red like the highlights in her hair. You are still learning how to memorise the sound of her voice so that when she isn’t there you will be able to hear her clear in your head as you replay the conversations of the day and read the messages she sends. When she laughs you remind yourself to memorise that too, the intonations that flutter as something funny becomes funnier the more she thinks about it. You want to hold onto that sound the way she holds your hand, reaching out behind her into the air for your fingers like they’re supposed to be there. She smirks before she kisses you. Her cheeks are pink like sunset.