We ask a lot.
We are not content to be seen as funny friends, charming sidekicks.
Our beauty fills hallways.
To sneak past us you have to marvel at our ability to command attention with just the shapes of thighs, the folds of bellies, and the slow molasses melting slopes we call ours.
Just try and look away.
What you call back fat, we call fairy wings.
What you call cellulite, we call battle armor.
We’ve got demands, baby.
And none them have anything to do with you.
Pictures and ramblings of a queer femme princess.