Mrs. S By K. Patrick

Mrs. S by K. Patrick

Leila Chatti, from "Postcard from Gone"

❦ we were born to be free ❦

Things that leveled me up as a Dyke Pt. 2

When I had dyke sex in the parking lot of the fire and brimstone church I grew up in

When a girl drew protective sigils on my arm for weeks after she overheard me tearing apart her old roommate for saying transphobic shit about her

When the sleep study doctor told me I have a medically large tongue and my wife shouted "I KNEW IT"

When the butch at the hardware store told me the shelf cutting machine broke and we spent 20min cutting shelves with bolt cutters for my wife's closet.

At the RenFaire, my wife tried the knife throwing but couldn't get it, then got huffy when I told her how to do it. She handed me the last knife and told me it's not that easy. I did not tell her I threw knives a lot as a kid, so with all her bags and jewelry balanced in one arm, I flipped the knife a couple times and sunk it into the wooden target guy. Felt like a damn hallmark movie and I loved it.

When an Aussie woman in a hotel lobby asked me to please please keep talking because she was fascinated by my american southern accent. I called her darlin and she blushed.

When my wife's grandfather was fine with her being a lesbian largely because I was such a big help with the cattle

When I moved an iron bedframe into the garden for my wife's coworker and she asked how long we'd been together. The answer was that morning. We'd been going steady for about an hour.

When I taught my wife how to waltz

“You’re hesitating, love”

Last day. Last kiss.

I wonder, do you think they both thought they were too much for each other?

Do you think that their insecurities eat away at them, burrowed into their bones?