A lipstick lesbian has bright red lips,
Well shaped body with curvaceous hips,
Her makeup perfect, subtle and sweet,
Only always dresses and handbags for she.
The sporty type hosts the tied back hair,
A rugby top buttoned and a track suit paired,
Gentle and violent but only with a ball,
To attract her over just whistle or call.
The butch one often appears the most,
Wearing tomboy attire and travelling the coast,
Pining over lipsticks swaying their hair,
‘Are you a boy or girl?’ as they questionably stare.
Regardless of how a lesbian may look,
Have you thought maybe we’re women not a book,
No need to try read us or split us apart,
We have exactly the same mind, soul and heart.
No-makeup doesn’t mean that I want to be a boy,
Just a comfortable woman with her life to enjoy,
I’ll make it clear to take it off your hands,
It’s none of your business if someone is gay/straight/bi or trans.
There’s only one difference for one to presume, is who we may lay next to in the bedroom