Sapphic Girl(Lesbian Complete)

Sapphic Girl

8

You catch your friend in a game of tag. For the first time in your life you realize how soft her shoulders are, and as she runs away from you, you hear the music in her laugh, and you wonder "has it always been there?" The way her hair shines in the sun almost overwhelms you. She asks what's wrong. You say nothing.

10

Your friends lay around you at a sleepover, flipping through your mother's magazines on autopilot. Your friend says, "we'll be kissing boys soon, so we might as well practice." You agree, and regret it. The softness of her lips and bubble gum in her breath and the cherry flavored lipgloss is so wonderful you have to stop. You dart to the bathroom, and your friends ask you what is wrong. You say nothing.

13

You ride on the bus with your class on a field trip. The bus is overflowing, so of course, like the good friend you are, you offer your lap to the green eyed girl with thick black hair. The weight of her legs on you makes you curious, makes you wonder about the length of her thigh running to meet the soft rise of her knee, that dips to form her shin. And you cannot understand why these girls swoon over the hardness in boys' legs, their backs, the hardness in their words. The girl in your lap shifts into you for a second, and all you feel is bliss. Then the boy with iron words and untrusting eyes calls her name. She leaves you to sit on his lap. Closing your eyes, you sigh. The teacher in the seat ahead of you asks if you are sick. You say nothing.

15

The word DYKE is painted onto your soul before the girls you once loved paint it onto your locker. Your cheeks turn the color of that girl's hair in class, who looks at you like maybe you are someone, something. You drink at parties and kiss girls and get so drunk as to not let yourself remember the night before. The girl with the red hair kisses you on the same playground you first realized the wonder of girls in. She takes your breath from your lungs and the bottle from your lips. You are sober for a year, and when she breaks up with you for a boy, you drink again, too hurt to say anything.

18

Through the crowd and noise and daze of college, you cut your hair and you cut your connections. The word "lesbo" is whispered behind you, and you smile like a queen claiming her title. You fuck girls and bleach your hair and rip your shirts. You talk, for the first time in your life, and a girl with thick glasses kisses the mouth your words come from. When she asks you to marry her two years later, you are too happy to say anything.

22

The house you live in with her fills your soul to the brim. The wedding band on your fingers is a circular reminder of everything you have fought for. "We did it," the ring says. But the stares you get when your hands are intertwined makes your heart heavy, and sometimes you cannot help looking over your shoulder before you kiss her. You feel like a circus doing the most human things. And the signs carried in the hands of those who will never know love like you do are burned into your mind. Sometimes you feel too heavy to say anything.

32

But the wedding band on your finger stays there. You watch the world around you change, and there is optimism in your heart each morning. You cannot help but look back on your youth a sympathetic fondness. The woman you call your wife kisses you every morning before she leaves for work. You feed your two dogs and you drink coffee with your friends. When you go out, you see an eight year old girl, who is staring at her female friend with an indescribable longing that you immediately recognize. You smile and let the memories wash over you.