May 13, 2025

nine years
married

a married-a-versary

[in this world we’re living in]

but
queer joy is resistance
and showing resilience
and we can do it
while also
using our privilege to help others
in our
community

November 18, 2024

kip and i have been adding
“for the resistance”
to the end of any task we do
because keeping our
queer
mentally ill
trans
asses
alive
is 100% part of the resistance

so we are making bagels
for the resistance
and taking lovely walks
for the resistance
and playing video games
for the resistance
and writing poetry
for the resistance
and loving each other
for the resistance
and loving ourselves
for the resistance

it is resisting everyone who says we don’t belong
on this planet
that clearly holds us close
and loves us
that we do
for the
resistance

December 20, 2022

ten years ago
i
was bored at my home

ten years ago
i
felt community thirty minutes away
(at a college i never attended)

ten years ago
i
called out to my friends to see
if anyone would be
excited for me
to come hang out that evening

ten years ago
i
happened to [re-]meet the love of my life
and this time we were both ready
available
and actually looking
pondering each other for
conquest
and connection

but

it is not this day that we count
as our official anniversary

ten years ago today
was a preamble
a flirtation
a stuttering step towards
a beginning

tomorrow
will be the actual anniversary:
that post-midnight
that coming together
that “end of the world”
that, even if it did actually end,
and this is all a simulation in someone else’s head,
at least we got a chance to meet and be together
ten years ago
the best thing that ever happened to me
was
you

and for the past ten years
that has continued
to be
true

May 13, 2022

poets
are supposed to be
sentimental
romantical
(or so society says)
their best works coming
from falling
head over heels over head
over and over and over again
with people/with person/with newfound loving

but i count myself a poet
(as strange as it still feels
internally;
but
you can’t do something
every day
for over a year
and not get to take that label)
and i suppose i feel
sentimental
romantical
but without the drama
without the dire feelings
without the falling/
not knowing/
which way is up/
will there be ground when i fall/
will it cushion or strike/
a final blow/
so/
i feel like my poems aren’t the romantical kind
most people expect

but i’ve had nearly ten years with you,
six of those legally wed
(straight out of a time i thought that’d never be a thing)
(planning a wedding when you don’t know which state
will abate
the legality of your love
is an…interesting experience, to say the least)
and we skipped most societal standards,
no first/second/third date rules,
just us, sharing our personal traumas
amid late night kisses
and early morning apple juice;
a first “date” lasting damn near 24 hours
(and only a previous commitment kept it
from just extending
ad inifinitum
as many sapphic first dates go)

a one night stand
turned to talking
and magnetic-felt pulling
until we collapsed our expectations,
shed our ‘no [new] relationship rules’
and went from officially dating
to quietly engaged
in four months
flat

and each month after
i’ve learned from you
and grown with you,
and we’ve had great times
and incredibly hard times,
quiet times
and a few loud times,
but most of the time
it’s simply
comfortable-being-with-you times.
i love our co-[in]dependence
that we’ve come into on our own terms.
and that year [+] where we could only see each other
was such a welcome gift.
and even though nothing is ever promised,
i can see my future more clearly
with you
than i’ve ever seen it before,
and i know
when we’re ghosts
we’ll finally be able to cuddle the way we want
bypassing physical boundaries
and feeling that closeness we yearn for
in every tight tight hug…

we were wed
6 years ago on this day
so i suppose that’s why
today
i’m feeling
sentimental
[and a bit romantical]
but also
sentimentality sneaks up on me
most days
that i get to see you
across the table from me
working on your programming
while i write stanzas of free-form poetry,
or when we’re apart
and i feel the heartbeat vibration
of my phone telling me it’s you texting me
little words of love
or collections of memes sent as a love language all its own
or getting ready for bedtime
in this house we’ve made a home
with our adorable little family
and the comfort of us
just being
[together]

i’m sentimental for you
in a way i never thought i’d be
and i must admit
i’m grateful for it,
my Kip.