Dyke as a Love Language
[cw: queer slur]
When I say dyke I mean expansive I mean heart.
I mean that I found my femininity discarded
and secondhand - bought for cheap from the thrift.
I am merely a reflection of every one who
has ever broken my heart. When I say dyke,
I mean collector of dust and detritus. I mean
speaking in tongues. I mean that I am in love
with the moon. I mean that yearning hangs
like bats in the cavern of my chest. When
I say dyke I mean the greatest loves were
always mine. I mean there is nothing more holy
than lips. Heartbreak lives in my body. When I
say dyke, I mean rupture. I mean scratching
love notes into chalky hearts. I mean I’m yours.
I mean be mine. I mean sugar high.
I mean softness. I mean home. When I say dyke
I mean lover, I mean love, I mean that the ocean goes
all the way down.
**2023 Best of the Net nominee
Beeper Peddle is a writer and healer living on the East Coast. She lives with her partner and their beloved soul puppy. Beeper writes about sorrows, lies, and deep loves. When you read her work, you will dip down into her heart and end up in all manner of body parts. Should you find yourself reflected in these words, it is merely coincidence; however, it does not surprise her you share the same heart. Find her at bethpeddle.com and @beeperpeddle on Twitter and Instagram
jd hegarty (she/they) is a poet, an anarchist, and a sunflower living in Minneapolis, Minnesota with two cats. jd’s work can be found in Name & None, Crab Orchard Review, Mortar Magazine, 45th Parallel, Inscape and elsewhere. Their first chapbook, On Passing, was published by Red Bird Chapbooks in 2017 and their self-published chapbook of sad gay love poems, the clearest blue, is available for free at jdhegarty.com. They can be found on twitter @YourAuntieJD.
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