The Queer Girl Creation Story
In the beginning, the body knew nothing
of desire. Submerged in a darkness it clung to for fear
of witnessing itself. Untouched but by a wave
it did not understand. God whispered into the waters: let me show you.
By ethereal light, She announced the body no longer
cloaked in shame.
They will say it took one day, don’t
listen. Not all is easy.
Complexity birthed confusion.
She separated love from lust
but they still touched on the horizon.
The waters were gathered, but still teased the land.
Delicate petals unfurled to the promise of dew. Vines snaked
from holy ground, reaching for the heavens. The earth could breathe,
but it did not want to without its lover lapping in gentle waves.
Half-reigned by a sphere of fire, transferring desire until the setting
and the settling in the body. A core of swallowed flames. On edge of eruption.
Half-reigned by a body unlike its own. She planted stars as reminders
not to lose oneself under the floodlight of a distant gaze.
There is vulnerability in the becoming. Wings snapped in the body,
beating against breaking ribs until birdsong soared from ruins.
The seas stirred and from devastation came revelation. The body
looked upon itself, apologised in trembling sincerity, and called its
nature to thrive.
In palm, She witnessed flourishing and the heavens quivered.
The body was done. She whispered to the woman: now, nurture
those who turn to the ground and weep. Say: let me show you.
Draping over her heaving chest,
God sighed. The word: pride.
By Lauren Elizabeth Taylor
Lauren Elizabeth Taylor is a queer writer from Derbyshire, England. She is the author of Will You Still Love Me if I Love Her? and How Will I Sound When My Voice Returns?