The Literal Sapphic Hivemind

     The literal sapphic hivemind is claiming its victims on new and obscure social media, discord servers, nervous DMs sent while hearts pound.

     The literal sapphic hivemind defies all scientific explanation, but those affected don’t seem to mind. Instead, they’re renting U-Hauls by the dozens, crisscrossing the country and crossing borders, forming an undeniable arterial pattern.

     The literal sapphic hivemind is insidious and irresistible, hiding in Chappell Roan songs, waiting for its next host pining over a new love, coming into her femininity with every shot of estradiol valerate, second puberty sending shockwaves through cerebral cortices.

     The literal sapphic hivemind is taking demure selfies with just enough skin in them, sent to a crush before the doubt can take root, blushing smiles shared between hundreds of miles, beamed into phones and laptop screens.

     The literal sapphic hivemind is manifesting in forehead kisses, head pats, high- pitched ‘good girls’ and long calls with friends spent gushing about this girl you’re sure had to have been manufactured in a lab or something.

     The literal sapphic hivemind is claiming your daughters, sisters, aunts and mothers, your girlfriends and wives, paramours and metamours.

     The literal sapphic hivemind is rose-tinted, strawberry-scented and sighing longingly at dust motes that stand suspended in windowed sunbeams, waiting for the next message to ping.

     The literal sapphic hivemind sways when walking beside object’s affection, hand grazing hand, over-correcting, heat in cheeks, hoping the next time won’t be accidental, will be reciprocated.

     The literal sapphic hivemind has taken up entire city blocks, neighborhoods, major metropolitan areas, turning the air a hazy but not unpleasant pink.

     The literal sapphic hivemind is surviving the infatuation stage, up for the late night video calls and difficult lore reveals, the uncovering of unfortunate, formative hurts and the ways they tendril into now.

     The literal sapphic hivemind is holding space, being patient, giving it as long as it takes, wanting to do this right.

     The literal sapphic hivemind is more than just the teenagery flirting, it’s the wait while the weight of past harm becomes easier to carry, no longer having to hold it all on your own.

     The literal sapphic hivemind has been hurt too many times to let the same pain follow the same tracer pattern, but it’s not letting its heart harden, softening instead to a mushy pulp spread openly and evenly on morning’s toast, paired with a chai and a smile.

     The literal sapphic hivemind will be there for her in the heart-hurt moments, the triggers unknowingly set off, the flashbacks and relivings, the I’m-sorrys, am-I-too-muches, the tears in laps but the laughter past the tears too, the breath hitching and sniffles.

     The literal sapphic hivemind commiserates, understands, undoes the old ways, deconstructs attachment patterns and learns new ones, holding on past the primal fear, the certainty you’ll do something to mess this good thing up.

     The literal sapphic hivemind collects recovery in moments and days, slipping up sometimes, falling into old cycles but catching it, self-soothing and taking a breath and looking back at old pictures to remember the attendant headspaces, foggy swiss-cheese- brain brought back whole and healthy.

     The literal sapphic hivemind will smile one day, realizing how far she’s come, the varied ways she’s learned to do things differently, the security married with the excitement of the new, the sapphic awakening, the heart-soar but the tempered heat, patient and waiting for what comes next.