Stories by Astrid Liu
Art by Gabi Backus
tiny love stories originated from one of the many discussions about the lack of representation of queer love. Society is making progress (though dubiously) towards increased queer representation, but too often protagonists are cis, white, and conventionally attractive. Moreover, mainstream queer stories often revolve around the traumas of coming out, murder, violence, and isolation experienced by queer folks. These are all important topics that inform and shape the queer experience, but they don’t define queer existence. tiny love stories reacts to this by exploring moments of queer love, in all different aspects and from all different perspectives. Celebrating these moments of connection and joy recharges us by reminding us of the beauty in the everyday interactions of our community. These are our processes of learning to love ourselves and learning to live without hesitation or fear of judgment. These are our tiny love stories.
●
i am inside the mirror and out. i’ve been floating
outside of my own consciousness too long, away from the acceptance
that comes with grounding. today i look myself in the eyes
instead of avoiding myself. today i embrace
each non-flaw, untwist warped neurons until i can name myself
without any more ingested poison
at the sweetness of who i am.
●
i glance across the oases of our bedsheets,
watch the way your eyes burn honey amber,
see the rubies on our foreheads.
the promised amethyst of our tongues,
bruised into the collarbone of your neck. can you feel this,
this wisp of forever,
this unspoken i love you?
●
she never did learn how to say i love you in cantonese.
she knew the words, how to write them, what they sounded like on google translate-
but she didn’t know how to untangle ngo oi nei from the formality of 我爱你,
how to own words from a motherland she’d been torn away from
/
she’d never said te quiero before,
only te amo, and barely that. how do you vocalize something you
thought you’d never have? how do you
stop yourself from
biting back words that sound too much like queer, too much like
forbidden?
/
they giggle all through eye contact
the first time they say i love you.
before that comes blending out contour on kitchen counters,
cutting bangs, peeling lychees onto a plate, thumbs rubbing against palms,
kisses dropped on eyelids, extra jackets in backpacks, silk pillowcases.
practicing love in motion
letting tongues follow fingers
infusing vocal cords to chests to cores, each other,
i love you ngo oi nei te quiero i love you i love you i love you
●
i am not perfect. neither are you.
and neither of us need one another to be- this is love,
realistic and fully
ours.
●
they’re in the kitchen, softly humming to themselves as they brew tea. chamomile
and honey for my stressful day.
i can’t help but lean into the
warmth of this moment, the sunlight emanating from their body,
the steam, their hands.
maybe my father’s god does not love how i love.
but right now, all i feel is heavenly.
●
he drops a kiss onto the scruff of my jaw, mumbles a hello
as the morning light rouses him from his spot
nestled in my shoulder.
his hands reach out blind to tangle
into mine. he whispers
صباح الخير عزيزتي to my adam’s apple
made red delicious just the night before.
●
she builds me up from the inside out just from where she’s
kissing between my thighs, my nails red in her hair
her skin, i’m almost there-
●
they say that translation is a life’s worth of work, that a single word can take decades to transmute into a new language. the same applies when dyke passes from my tongue to yours, melts into the heat of your teeth, transcends into something only we can define over the course of our years together…
