Heteronormativity: A Poem (2018)

I
It took me an
age –
nestled in a strange
array of
tears, shame, and denial;
circling like animals,
preying
on the sound – humming
from within an ache
to digest and accept
this love I have
for other women.
You could say
I tried dimming
the light –
pinching the signal
between
two fingers;
prints stubbed
from years of
this ritual –
like early morning
jam on toast,
or keeping your head
above water
when rocked gently
by the ocean.
But I forgot my gasps
for air
were audible –
particularly by the rocks, or
when breached by a storm
where I
struggled the most;
they laughed,
and took notice.
Like moths
cursing the fabric;
I swapped denim
for knits –
Hide. Hide. Hide.
II
Praying
that this could
go away.
whilst heterosexual
ideals of
love and romance starting with
“Adam and Eve”,
not “Amelia and Eve” –
dissolved
like foaming pills,
in running water:
“take a sip”
they would recommend
before demanding I
“drink in the sea”
and questioning
this “new phase”
of mine –
like anything other
than “heterosexual”
had to be tied to
the lunar cycle
though the moon
is ours.
III
Pressuring:
“Is it impossible for you
to be ‘normal’?”
Critiquing:
“Why do you always
have to make things so difficult?”
Denying:
“Are you really so desperate
to be different?”
IV
It took me an
age – and a day
to realise that writing
poems
about love – passionate,
soulful, earth-shattering love
had never worked,
never clicked,
because I had tried
desperately
exhausting spirit,
and body –
to make my subjects
the whispers,
touches, and
persuasions
of men.

Mother –
I am Sappho’s daughter.