in the days of sappho

We are not those who burnt, because flames were deemed too showy for wilting flowers
except when fire was chosen as the only way to teach us again
how to be silent


We are those who march with our own pace, our hearts hollow diamonds capable of engulfing all the rivers of the Earth
and love them
equally


We are those who were running on the island which still remembers us and calls to us,
racing the wind and the goddesses,
verses in our heads and violets tangled in our hands


We are those defying the implicit rules in the chaotic city we loved
and hated
and spited
and the world buried us under heaps of parchment which would make people feel for centuries


We are mothers and daughters of the same name, walking different parts of Europe in different years,
asking for rights or inventing the modern novel during a storm
– how appropriate


We are those who let words flow from our pen in letters similar to streams
and novels to rivers,
always water surrounding us, water we would ultimately
embrace


We are those conjoining under a bright and coloured southern sky after the grey and brown of a city where only others seemed to be able to write,
because between us two we had
the Earth and the Moon


We are all of those,
and more anonymous legions still, forgotten but alive, trampled on but with our eyes intact and our voices sharpened like knives


We are, after all, daughters of so many goddesses;
you thought you were naming storms after us
– it is we who created them

—  We Were Just Allowed to Breathe and Yet Hurricanes are Female, E.M.F.

All I find myself thinking of now is her
The way her laugh echoes, her radiant smile
The way her voice calms, her tousled hair
And most of all
How her eyes widen in wonder as she looks at me
Her sweetness is contagious
Her humor bright, her spirit ever brighter

I know this girl is mine, but I don’t believe it
How could a girl like me ever be so lucky?
Every moment with her feels like a dream
Lord, if this is a dream
I care for nothing else
Let me never wake up

anonymous asked:

have any great source of poetry about wlw?

i’ve got a wlw poetry tag but i’ll link you to a few of my fave authors / poems. i think an important thing to remember is that if you know they’re a wlw poet, then even if they don’t use pronouns in the poem, it’s likely a poem about wlw.