I Love You Butches

I love your metal clad hearts, I love how
you thumped down girlishness like a stack
of files on a desk, case closed. I love you
butches and your metal clad boots and how
you tip toe along the high wire, arms out,
balancing. Pint in one hand, cig in the other.
I love you butches and your metal on metal
walk, keys jangling. I love you butches in
Sainsbury’s. I love you metal in face butches,
heart on sleeve butches. I love you butches
on TV. I love the word butches, wouldn’t
say butches in front of my mother, wouldn’t
speak of my love on TV. Butches you are
stronger than me, you have metal shells
and warm yolk inside. I love you butches,
I’m sorry. I’m sorry, butches, they don’t love
you out there. I’m sorry they fear you
with metal prongs and beg woman out
of you, I’m sorry butches, you must be steel.

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Izzie Hingston (she/they) is London based and a recent Creative Writing MA grad from Bath Spa. Izzie’s writing explores queerness, identity and nightlife.

‘I Love you Butches’ is Izzie’s debut published poem and is part of a pamphlet named Some Faint Rendition of a Party Girl. Follow them @izziehingston.