The acronym LGBT+ came in my life when I had a feeling I might love women. I was not sure until I turned 20. Before that, I defined myself as heterosexual ? a woman who loved men.
You buy me your favorite Carlos Luis Zafón
& beg, no demand that I read it.
You don't "take favors”
But blushed when I gave you Neruda's Twenty Love Poems- Michael Faudet's erotic poetry, you said, "touched you in places-"
The impact of climate change on the LGBT community is an important topic because of a need for a seat at the table, ie - representation.
Here, bisexuality is more like
like gay, but not gay enough,
like double the options (or so you think)
but eight times the panic.
I have been told to be less so many times – be less big, be less loud, be less intimidating, be less of so much. I have been less so many times.
Loving someone who is in the closet taught me how to manage my feelings and changed the way our everyday lives unfolded. I realised that being with someone who is in the closet means respecting them and their privacy, and being supportive.
The heterosexual notion of a family ? father, mother, and children needs to change. I want to say there are other kinds of family.
It is a sexual and emotional orientation that identifies with having intimate and romantic relationships with any and every gender.
I shall retrace our footsteps- which do not exist anymore, a thousand times over. Then visit the quaint little bookshop we went to, sit in a corner, unobserved & longingly sigh.
An intellectual phenomenon, almost
Ready for you to stare at but never touch
And debate what these clothes mean, this hair, this skin, this nail hanging limply at the end of my
This pride month, the first after the milestone 377 verdict, there are a gazillion campaigns projected in the face of the desi queer community. This propaganda comes in the form of VIBGYOR brand names, adverts with vague references to same sex couples, stylized t-shirts and mugs and anything that can fleece of the middle class in the name of pride.
Being the only child was hard for me. Throughout the years, I kept to myself and accepted myself and still felt like I was the only South Asian Muslim in this world.
I'm openly Bisexual, and I hate that label. All labels, for that matter. Gender, as I've come to know, is abstract.
Number one: sunshine
It seemed odd to lose the thing that was most in abundance
And yet, it slipped away, ray by ray
Until there was only the darkness
People putting up the pride flag outside Sambhaji Park where we were to assemble for the pride, community friends hugging each other, I just felt like I was among my people.
But contrary to my imaginations of it being fun, polyamory turned out to be a piece of work! You had to make time for multiple people, albeit in different capacities, and be honest with each one of them, including yourself.
Will you grab me by the throat
And try erasing a passionate mistake you once made Or ask
me if I'm doing fine And I'd say, how could I?
When I'm deprived of the presence that once gave me life.
It was a Sunday afternoon in Delhi, and the sun blazed hot with warm winds touching the skin. He met Naman for the last time in his tiny apartment, the apartment where they had first met.
A piece of adhesive
Of the colour red.
The scream of a woman -
“Chakka hai ki ladki?”
Her spectacled eyes
Upon my bindi.
I was confused for the longest time because I used to think that there are just gay boys/girls and heterosexual boys/girls. I did not know about bisexuality until class 9th.