When We Wake Up Together In Brooklyn, We Are Three Thousand Miles Away From Our Daily Lives On The West

When we wake up together in Brooklyn, we are three thousand miles away from our daily lives on the West Coast, and I already know that I am in love with her. We have slept facing East, and sunrise, Jerusalem, farther; the morning light streams in through thin curtains, and when I open my eyes I can see her smiling at me. We have grown close to one another, and then closer; I look at this smile of hers, and I think that maybe she has started to see her future in me. That night we celebrate Shabbat with her family, and then we return to bed, to celebrate with each other.

This is a simple jewish story and a simple love story. A nice Jewish boy meets a nice Jewish girl in the woods, and they start what seems to be a summer camp romance, only it holds, and through the campfire flirtation, they become an us. But the story here is also between two queers, and this infuses each layer: My butch self ot her femme self, my tattoos against her bare skin, the glasses that we each have to take off when we kiss, my white T-shirt against her black slip, and my palms, pressed into hers, fingers entwined; all of the ways that love has threaded itself between us, the most simple and complex revelations.

Before we know each other well, and before we tell each other our stories, and before I am hers, and she is mine, there is the beginning, and in the beginning I walk across the room to talk to her. She is on one side, and I am on the other, and I am immediately drawn to her, compelled. And then there is also the act of standing near her: there is this deep flash of recognition between us, this low hum just below the surface. There is this feeling of familiarity, and ease underneath all the words that we are saying, and all the words that we are not saying -- and this feeling between us is like speaking a second language, like speaking the language of our homeland, uncovered. Right from the start, this standing near her, it leaves me wanting more. "

"What We Know To Be True", Sasha T. Goldberg, On Butch and Femme: Compiled Readings, (edited by I.M. Epstein) (2017)

pretty scissors i found at an antique store ✄ ౨ৎ

introverted & perverted. ⊹˚. ♡.𖥔 ݁ ˖

every day is butch appreciation day for me actually... this is a fulltime job