“IN THE WORDS OF SAPPHO: “Sweet mother, I cannot weave. Slender Aphrodite has overcome me with…”

IN THE WORDS OF SAPPHO:
“Sweet mother, I cannot weave. Slender Aphrodite has overcome me with longing for a girl.”

A girl whose nose crinkles when she laughs, whose brown eyes gleam in the sun.

She smiles into kisses and hugs me from behind.
She likes to dance.
She’s not too good at it, but she looks so beautiful when she tilts her head back and giggles at her movements that I love to watch her anyway.

She is sunflowers, lazy mornings, reading books aloud.
She is boardwalks with too big a sweatshirt pulled over her bikini, watching the sunset, hair pulled sloppily into a bun, a mess of half-dry hair.

She is mine.

Sweet mother,
“Sweet mother, I cannot weave. Slender Aphrodite has overcome me with longing for a girl.”

O.R.E. {how did I get this lucky to hold her in my arms} (via orewriting)