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c
o v e r s t o r y
Pursuing
the Femme Identity
by
Andrea Spoehrer
f e a t u r
e s
Revealing
the "psuedo-invert"
Una, Lady Troubridge
by
Alison Phipps
Ashes
in the Paint
by
Michelle Bancroft
c o l u m n
s
Health
by
Dr. Lipstick
Wealth
by
Ms. Moneygrrl
Sex
by
SexySuzi
Advice
by
Victoria
Fashion
by
Dara
Femme
Perspective
by
Kenya
Butch
Perspective
by
D
Publisher's
Note
Letter
from the Editor
Contribute
to Femme
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Ashes in
the Paint
by Michelle Bancroft
(continued,
page 2)
I
see
the world through a veil of tears now, Daddy. It is so cloudy.
I am completely enveloped in dense numbness; stunned and confused.
Knowing you were to die has done nothing in helping me to prepare
for it. How could I ever anticipate such sadistic silence, such
an unforgiving, brutal reality such as this? Your body betrayed
you, the cancer killed you. I stood by your side helpless to stop
this horrific outcome. I was fiercely vigilant, protecting you
the way you once did me. But you left anyway. And you left me
an orphan. How could you?
I
must ask you this: why did we have to be so in love when you died?
Why did I have to be so bound to you? Why did I have to see the
world only through your eyes? Blessing or curse, I do not know
which in this now torturous, existence called "life". Help me,
Daddy.
Hunger.
I am so hungry for you. Every sense I have is nearing emaciation,
I need to be filled by your scent, your glorious, knowing touch,
listen to your rough voice. I need to be pinned under you again.
I need to feel every ounce of your butch weight on top of me.
I am left with an nocuous black box.
They
delivered you, well, your ashes anyway. Could you feel, just for
an instant, I was not as crazed, was not as howling? I was given
your body back - the body I worshipped with such unapologetic,
insane desire. It was only you who could ignite and satisfy my
darkest longings. Remember, Daddy? Could you feel me pulling that
black box close to my body? Could you feel me as I felt you?
I
took
you to our bed. I dug my hands into your ashes, spread you upon
and inside my body. I tasted you, smelled you. I then laid the
black box upon my heart, it felt as if I was pulling you deep,
deep inside of me just like I once did. Oh, my magnificent butch,
to feel at least some of your weight on top of me again created
a glimpse of the heaven I was so fortunate to know with you. In
that state, I finally fell asleep. I awoke, curled up tightly
next to you, hugging this new form of you. I never wanted to let
you go.
For
a few days, I took you everywhere with me. Did you like doing
errands with me, taking a drive to the beach together? I would
rest my hand upon your black box as I drove. Could you feel all
the suffering and love in my touch? I even took you to visit my
parents. I almost felt like introducing you to them again....here's
my butch, new form, same content! You would have liked that, wouldn't
you?
I
howl, Daddy. Oh, how I beg you to deliver me from these tormented
nights. Can't you hear my cries? Can't you hear my screams? Can't
you sense my fear? How can you not rescue me? Was I bad? I do
not understand. It is only exhaustion that takes me into fitful
sleep. When I open my eyes, I wonder how I am not waking up in
a pool of my own blood. I beg you to release me from my promise,
your demand that I "live" and to allow the Goddess to take me
in Her own time. I ask you, darling, how can I possibly live without
you?
One
morning I woke up and knew it was time for me to follow your wishes
for your ashes. Did you see me pouring some of you into that special
raku bowl of ours? I lovingly spread the top of your ashes with
dried rose petals from the last bouquet you gave me. You would
have loved to see that dense gray ash with such shocking shots
of deep alizarin crimson. My master artist, my mentor you have
taught me well. I will use these ashes in my future paintings.
I will mix you with the oil paint we loved and also bound us even
deeper to each other. In that way, you will live forever.
continued
on page 3
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