To Find Heaven.

I know what it is like to be bigger than the world. Or rather, the world that has been made for me.
I ask where women like us go to. My lover says heaven.
Where is heaven?
A place where we are allowed to bloom without being cut short.

I am tired of being too big. Taking up too much space. In the part of the world, a queer woman is an unwanted plant. She grows in places she is not meant to be. She will not bear fruits for your enjoyment. She is stubborn. She will not yield.

My lover does not hold my hand in public. She says I am her sister. The officer smiles. So does her mother. And my family. We cut our branches. Bury our roots deeply.

I too am bigger than the world that I am stuck with. I kiss my girlfriend in small hidden corners and in each other's hands, we bloom. I water her while watering myself. A beautiful baptism. We do not want to cut our branches again. We want to water and grow and bloom and watch this world choke on our love. We want to go to heaven.