Natalie De Paz

The L Word

L is a minimalist and a self-described Top
there are no curtains on the windows of her apartment
except in her bedroom and the next day
the echo of her fingers reverberates and i am cavernous
like a hail mary in unison first thing in the womb of morning
i want to shout her praises from the rooftops but i settle for texting a friend

in between rounds i ask if it is too on-the-nose to talk about the L word
she says no as she caresses my back
a few minutes before grabbing another fistful of my hair

she plays rugby and kickball and studied film
something about her makes me trust her shadow, her brow
i thank the steel gods this city is small
should have asked her to dance the first time we met

the hours wash over me like a breath
and i am giddy to be lost in the night

High Femme Litany

lime green dress
wrinkles easily
favorite color
good zipper
wore it to the museum on a date with a lesbian
she unzipped it and it was her first time with a woman
she was a good kisser
sweet

maximalist coordinated athleisure set
i wore to get fucked by the minimalist long-haired butch
(the second time)
whose strap game was mind-blowing
and whose rugby hands I craved more of with each touch

the first time with the minimalist
i wore a skirt with a slit all the way to my hip
and made sure my purple bra was showing

this is a good time to mention
i didn’t love these women
but we were good to each other
tender and respectful
sharing wine and stories and ice cream
warm in bed with playful light

We talk about strap game

in the cemetery,
inches away in every direction from dead bodies.

The sunlight glints in my eyes.
The top three buttons on my dress are open,
my hair is wild again.

The deer are always here at this luminous hour.

An acorn bounces down. The trees are bigger than I
imagined or remembered, my friend
embroiders a rose for an anniversary, the music floats
under our words. The sound of a train goes by.

There is always a train going by.

On the walk over to this spot I saw
a husband’s grave with his wife’s pre-marked right beside it.
She’s not dead yet.

She always thinks of him and the headstone waiting for her:

1931–

An open invitation.

Natalie De Paz (she/her) is a cool-ass bisexual Cuban-American babe (poet, improviser, and style icon) born and raised in South Florida. She currently lives in the suburbs of Pittsburgh with the love of her life, their dog, and their cat. She has a BA in English from Florida International University and an MFA in creative writing from Stony Brook Southampton.