Universal Valentine

​I’m really not a Valentine’s day person, in fact I didn’t remember it was Valentine’s day until I saw my feed but I wanted to say this to everyone who is not getting the day they wish they had:
I love you
To my queer peers who are afraid to share their relationships
I love you
To all my transgender family who are being misgendered
-forced to perform a gender role that sits prickly and strange upon our hearts
I love you
To my IBPoC friends who have to be reminded in a million different ways
-that this is just another day of colonial white supremacy.
I love you
To my disabled folks who are perpetually forgotten in the romantic paradigm
I love you
To my autistic friends who are never gonna get it or feel crushed by the pressure
I love you
To my chronically ill clan who are to sick and to tired to participate
I love you
To my immigrant friends to frightened by current events to let their guard down 
I love you.
To my stay at home parent people who only have thankless children to engage with
I love you. 
To my single parent friends who always have to work
I love you
To my single friends watching the roses roll In
I love you.
To my polyamorous friends who can’t talk about it 
I love you.
To my friends who’s partners never seem to appreciate, no matter which day it is
I love you

To all the folks frustrated, angered, or left out
I see you
Your feelings are real
I love you

Love Poems Collected 

CW: discussions of sexy/sexual situations, mildly NSFW


hands bent like injured birds
in supplication

when you lay hands upon my body
and strip away my everything
peeled back by an unswerving and merciless love
I lay bare before the eyes of this universe

broken and renewed
strength flows through me
both yours and mine
an incomparable ecstasy

and so I am kneeling for you Sir
still in mind and body
quietly. waiting
for when you finally lay hands upon my body

I will know the universe’s most guarded secrets
dreams and reckonings will flow like silver through our fingertips
The sky will open up
and these dragons will surely be born anew


I struggle to find words for this
This pressure
This sacred release

pressed down, small
powerful. strong
endless. limitless
here in the moment of your embrace

fingertips and tongue
trace arcane patterns into my pale resistance
I am undone
gifted to you

packaged and presented for your pleasure
I close my eyes behind this blindfold
and wish myself pleasing

Stretched out within this existence
a burning all powerful devotion
punctuated with submission

these hands bound in leather
my secret reminder
this dream, so painfully vibrant

sweeping. raw. transcendent



I have never been one for love poems
bereft of my faith since my early days
with baby teeth and velcro shoes

a childhood burnished in the vast abyss of human weakness
dreams dashed on the rocks of my own complacence
settled into a fine defense of apathy

I have been my whitest knight and unrepentant enemy
dreamer, lover, friend
I would tell you that I needed nothing
wanted for no one




Who needed friends when I had enemies like me?

Now I run fingertips over the direction of my future like a delighted child
awe struck and passionate
and the burning pyre on which I set my broken heart
raises me again and again



I reach knowingly into the pale grey dawn
fingertips and palms
eyes wide open

I have fumbled through the mists of Avalon to find your sad still heart
these quiet galaxies whirl around us

I dream your resurrection with a tear stained kiss
eyes and hands
body devoted

Held within the fire of your convictions
breath and heartbeat entwined in this universal hum
the salty sweet taste of both past and future selves

settled into this,
our sacred sum
a most sentimental freedom


I am waiting
hands pent up

fingertips pinned to slow my impatient demands
tongue bit to prevent that needless cry

and the clock ticks

and the days flip


and we both heave ho our mutual sighs of greedy impatient waiting
buried in heart pounding not-quite-now-ness
blood, sweat, cum, and rejoice! rejoice! rejoice!

that grumbly sound you make in your throat when I turn you on
the way you touch my face when you say you love me
the fires of time and space always burning in your eyes
the way everything is always moving even when we are completely still



I have this thing here
simmering underneath my skin
don’t quite know the shape of it
how or why or where it’s been

i have this drive in me
quest heart-mission fingers-dream eyes
forever seeking such epiphanies

pasts and futures twined
gently raining a limitless possibility
such lovely lonely truths and magics
unto infinity


I carry these brilliant beautiful
effervescent ramblings
I press them between my palms and tuck them under my chin

I think I’m probably glowing
a fresh pretty pink
the color of lollipops and innocence

and yet…
there I am
here I am
all cotton candy kisses and open eyed devotion

glowing with the joy of this
the quiet of this
the down and dirty normal of this

the simple is of us


I feel you like humming echoing through my veins
fingertips and teeth branded into the sweet energetic pulse in my throat

Hands, heart, and mind happily in your sway
Such a sweet merciful pain

thrumming so hungrily
drunk on the taste of you


Pinned down
pulse pounding
my body defined by your preference
Filled with your passion and persuasion

power, pain, and pleasure coursing through us
A closed circuit
My heart and yours bound by more than these chains

a history punctuated in the sharp pop of proper discipline and withheld breath

a moment’s sweet perfection


Your skin tastes sweet and dry, like history
on the first morning of our first meeting
Like old paper and papyrus

I draw loose circles around the taste of you
Twisting you in beside me
quiet hands stilled impossibly
willing the veil be torn away

to learn the easy steady rhythm of your own submission
of yes Mistress
of more please

Of freedoms found only in restraints
and sweet and dirty kisses to soothe away the pain


Maybe it is in your touch
The smooth hot friction of it

Maybe it is the taste of you
Musk and earth and fury, burning

Maybe it is your devotion to the task at hand
Your utter earnest quiet supplication

Or all those things tied together
In a not exactly tidy bow

All the things and ways you slake my thirst and feed my hunger simultaneously

Love Letters to the Edge of Our Infinity

There is an entire galaxy here hammered out of aluminum and previously loved plastic bottles

Bringing the brunt of my impotent rage to bear on empty air


Broken dreams and disaster breath

They spread cold, oily, fingers through my hair

Over my twitching, vulnerable skin

Laid bare. 





There is a whole glittering city here built on brown skin

blood and bone of the marginalized. 

It whispers bittersweet nothings

Comforting lies

It asks us to turn away our tear stained faces. 

Our rage fists, tightly knotted, gnarled

It asks us to forgive it the bloody finger tips of those it purposefully forgot.  

Keep them on your lips. 

Eyes open to these atrocities
















A litany that could stretch from the birth of the universe until it takes its final quivering breath

Emptied of life and hope

My body like gossamer wings alone, delicate, fragile

I will lay down with you if you will have me

The one-two thump of my quiet heart added to yours

I have hope that intertwined we shall remain stronger

Spider silk 

Soul strong

I will be your shield if you need me 

I will be your heart when you are bleeding 

If you indicate with word or gesture that consent is given freely

We will tap out in lover’s code 

in the deep of midnight

all the ways we shall strengthen each other. 

Fury feeding

Love exponential

I will lay myself bare and invite you in

Just stay alive my loves

Just keep breathing

All the Rules for Breathing

I am a well of emotional, I’m not sure

I am heartbreak

I am fury

I am broken, drunk, alone



I am devastation

I am devastated


I am devastation

I am devastated


I am fucking devastation

I am fucking devastated


Heart break



I am to gawddam broken to put this fury to use 








Despite the death in the air

Inspite of the call for our blood

For our pain

for our moments


I will make myself resolute


I will make myself burn for this


For a glimmer of victory

For a taste of truth

For freedom

For life


My heart breaks but I am alive

I am living

Stay alive

Recently I got a cane and some fabric, reusable, filter type masks. Both of which I’d probably needed for quite awhile but financial limitations and internalized ableism had prevented happening up until recently. I expected to have a complex emotional reaction to actually having assistive devices. But one thing I hadn’t really expected was how good it would make me feel, how powerful. 

I’d had my reasons, other than money, for not using any assistive devices before of course. I had bought and used paper filter masks before but they didn’t really help, and honestly really embarrassed me. People looked at me like I was personally carrying the plague or zombie flu, it fogged up my glasses, and made my face feel claustrophobic or something…It just wasn’t worth it for the lack of help. So I hadn’t bothered trying any of the valve filter reusable masks, since budgeting for them would be difficult anyway. 

As for a cane, it has taken me forever to even realize a cane could be an helpful option for me. Internalized ableism, cognitive dissonance, and pure obstinance had me thinking canes were for people who had some sort of issue with their limbs, bones, muscles, or joints specifically. It never occurred to me that if a cane could help me function, i could just use one. It never occurred to me it could be as simple as that. 

So when friends recently offered to help me get a couple masks and a cane, to hopefully give me some independence and accessibility back, i said yes, though with a swirl of emotions. I knew that I wanted to be more independent, at this point more independence was the key dream, the goal of goals. But I was also afraid. I was afraid I would “do it wrong”, that someone would tell me I wasn’t actually allowed to use them for the purposes I needed them for (asthma and standing for longer periods respectively), that I would look ridiculous, or that I would get my hopes up and be let down again. 

For two days I waited, both excited and anxious. Once they arrived, I ripped the packages open and immediately tried them out. As I did something surprising happened…I felt…proud…I felt confident…I felt capable, strong and sexy. 


Mind blown. So to speak. 

So here I am. I haven’t actually gotten to use them out of the house to much. I’m not able to go out to often even with a cane and a breathing mask. But one thing I know for sure is that every time I do use them, i will be using the resources i have at hand to help myself…and not only is there is absolutely nothing shameful about that. It is fantastic, it’s a sign of strength, coolness. Dare I even say it, it’s pretty fucking sexy.  

And so help me, if anyone does see fit to complain about my using a cane so that I can stand with my family, they might just regret it. 

Because I bet this thing is pretty good for shin walloping too. 

Survival of the Not Quite Fittest


I’ve been trying not to slip into a mindless panic. In part this is because of the daily onslaught of fresh horrors from the new administration. In part it is a combination of medication side effects, illness complications, and parenting two intense little humans during emotionally fraught times…not to mention the standard issue chronic illness and disability complication of never ending financial stress.

So I have been trying to stay somewhat calm and centered…with mixed…at best, results. Still even with so much of the same pressure bearing down on me,  It is, I think, important for me to continue documenting this time, and my feelings in it.

So yes I am scared, I am waiting to see how far this other shoe will drop still, how badly me and mine will be crushed on the way down…whom we can help get out from under it before it drops.

I am practicing as much and as varied self care as I can

hot baths

writing about my feelings

educating people as well as I can on intersectional issues of oppression and equality

knitting when I am able

comfort food

more comfort food


Still the well of the unknown looms over me

cold and menacing

I never have done well with lack of surety

even having seen this coming, more or less

I am unsure how large all of our society’s evils, which have always been there, will grow in such an openly fertile and supportive environment

I am unsure how long this conservative cultural shift will last

what impact it will have on my beloved children

what my place will be in the fight for my family’s right to exist

I only know that I will have one

I must have one


We all must

We looked away to long

accepted resigned sighs and “good enough”

We can not afford to look away any longer

We must look into the abyss and we must name it, “Us”

We must strip the rot from our own hearts

before we can save each other

or ourselves

We must burn with a sacred fire

those of us who can

so that we may survive

so that we may resist

So that we may breathe


Keep Breathing my loves

Fluid Mom

Today I have a special guest post from my dear friend and talented artist, Caro, on the intersections of personal, gender, and parental identities. This is a topic that is most dear to my heart and experience. I know that this beautifully, vulnerable comic really spoke to my parenting life, I’m sure it will speak to many others as well.



Caro Fréchette is a Canadian sequential artist and author. They have published several short stories, both sequential and traditional, as well as two graphic novels, five novels, and one non-fiction book on writing. They were the editor and director for the French Canadian literary magazine Histoires à boire debout.
You can follow their online comic Some Assembly Required on Tapastic: https://tapastic.com/series/Some-Assembly-Required1 
Get in touch:
Twitter: @CaroFrechette1