I’ll be all the poets, I’ll kill them all and take each one’s place in turn, and every time love’s written in all the strands it will be to you.
Amal el-Mohtar & Max Gladstone, Time War
Trust me, she mouths. My palms are sweating. I’ve only ever trusted three people in my life—never gotten close enough to trust any more. I hold on to her waist a little tighter. And I answer with my body: I do.
Leah Johnson, Rise to the Sun
Lazybones, I will tease, and touch her in a way that will make her eyes fly open.
Sid!
Yes?
I was sleeping.
You were?
You owe me an apology.
You’re right, Nirrim, I do. How shall I make you forgive me?
You know, she will murmur.
Marie Rutkoski, The Hollow Heart
You’ve always been the hunger at the heart of me, Red—my teeth, my claws, my poisoned apple. Under the spreading chestnut tree, I made you and you made me.
Amal el-Mohtar & Max Gladstone, This is How You Lose the Time War
Davina kissed her and it was like the answer to a question she’d only recently realized she’d wanted to ask. Like the world had paused, just for a moment, and Tess wanted it to never start again.
Rebecca Kim Wells, in Fools in Love
I vow to love you in primal ways.
I vow to love you in infinite forms.
In our separateness and composites.
To dust and stars and the ever after.
Joseph O. Legaspi, Vows (for a gay wedding)
This is the war I was born toward, her skin, its lake-glint.
I desire—: I thirst.
To be filled—: light-well.
The light throbs everything, and songs
against her body, girdling the knee bone.
Natalie Diaz, Postcolonial Love Poem