The first and only time I have kissed a butch
Was awkward and brief
And honestly, not very memorable
Probably my fault
But that’s okay
Because I am lucky enough
Blessed enough
That I will get the chance
To kiss a butch again.
I have yet to worship a butch’s body
But I know when I do
I will take my time
Mapping out the details of their one-of-a kind, masterpiece of a vessel
The dimples in their thighs
Their body hair, whether it be a light dusting or full forest, I love it all; I don’t care
The hickies I will leave on their neck
The singular scattered freckles on their skin
There’s been no game, but I feel I’ve somehow managed to win
Because I know in my lifetime
I will get the chance
To worship a butch’s body.
Thus far, I have not fallen in love with a butch
But God, have I loved butches
Most were people I never met
Just saw snapshots of their lives in photographs
Or heard the stories about how they fought for the future generations of queers
How I hold these who share this identity dear
I admire them
Exist in awe of them
Try to create myself in their image
Lust after them
Dream and fantasize of all the butches in my future I will come to cherish
And thank the universe for letting me exist in the same world as them
Though I am still on my journey of defining what butch means to me
I know it’s something I want to be
And many say that’s good enough
The voice in my head says, “not quite up to snuff”
Pushes me to chase after an intangible, unreachable, ever moving finish line
To spend my entire life dwelling on whether my butchness is “sufficient” or not
When really the way I am now is fine
Some have even told me it’s divine
But I think I need to keep trying
Until the day I feel I have earned the right to the butch title
I’ll be revitalized by the warmth of our community
Which admittedly, can be tidal
We recede and crash
But can also rise like a phoenix from ash
Because despite the ignorant ideas that we “reinforce the binary”
Or are merely attempting to replicate the heterosexual dream
We know, at the end of the day
That light streams
From our veins and our hearts and our minds
We’re magical, I’ve come to find
And yes, at times it can be lonely
But only can others like me understand
What it is like to be dealt the hand
Of being butch for butch.
So I keep searching
With faith in my heart that I’m not alone
And there are parts of my soul
Scattered in fractals across the galaxy
Which I’ll voyage across gladly
To find those friends and lovers
That I’m hoping will help me discover
The path to loving myself
Because I can’t imagine anything more renewing
Anything brighter, or more freeing
Anything stronger or more all-seeing
Anything sweeter or more healing
Than being a butch
Who loves
Another
Butch.
Adrian Mora (he/they pronouns) is a neurodivergent, trans lesbian poet, singer-songwriter, actor and filmmaker from New York City. The piece of his featured in this issue, “A Baby Butch’s Ode to Butches” was previously published in Issue #02 “Renewal” of “Beloved: A ButchFemme Zine.” You can follow them on Instagram @adrianormateo1225.
