Binaries Are Bullshit: Issue 001 - Sexuality & Pleasure

issue 001 / sexuality & pleasure / spring 2022
stories, art, poetry &
m
o
r
e
b
y
queer youth
a collection of
brought to you by wellness beyon
d
t
h
e
binary

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Land Acnowledgement
Letter From the Editor
The Moon Empress by Isabelle Call
Untitled Series No. 1 by John
pleasure is a worthwhile goal in and of itself | the jewel,
the glory, the pride | fragrant offering by Eryn Johnson
swimming lessons by Aliyah Clarke
to hell with the trinary, too by Alex Masse
To Your Surprise | This Body is Whole | Wonderful
Conclusion by Sam Poulin
My Pronoun is My Name by Romila Barryman
There Is a Version of Me by August Elzinga
Page 13 - 14
Page 16 -
17
Page 19
Page 23
Hot Hands by Sandy Nguyen
More Than "The Talk" - The Importance of Comprehensive Sex
Education: An interview with Alysha Sommerton by Alexis Zygan
Page 1
Page 24
Pg 25 - 26
Drowning by Soap
Home Is Where the Heart Is | The First Love Poem I've Ever
Written | Apocalypse by Eos Phorus
complimentary by Bili
Adult Discontent + Photography & Poetry by Sohrab Mosaheb
Red Velvet by Adina V
W(Om)b by Taylor Neal
From the stage, you chose me by Josh Monk
Untitled Art Piece by Anonymous
Tasting You by Kate Long
One Night Comedy | There Is A Version of Me by April Alayon

This zine was created on the stolen and
unsurrendered territories of the Coast Salish Peoples
- including but not limited to xʷməθkʷəy̓ əm
(Musqueam), Sḵwx̱ wú7mesh (Squamish) and
xsəl̓ilwətaɁɬ təməxʷ (Tsleil-Waututh) nations.
As uninvited settlers here, we hold respect and
gratitude for the land, acknowledging that its rightful
keepers have cared for and nurtured it since time in
memorium. As uninvited settlers living with
undeniable privileges on Turtle Island, we must
constantly reflect upon the role we've played in the
ongoing dispossession of Indigenous peoples, lands
and resources.
In exploring the complexities of sexuality and
pleasure for this inaugural issue of Binaries are
Bullshit, we commit to challenging the inherently
capitalistic conditions of colonial wellness -
encouraging the right to joy and pleasure for all
bodies across the globe. Historically, zines have
brought together marginalized peoples to resist
systemic oppression through collaboration and
community. We hope for this zine to do the same and
for our allyship to be an ongoing and lifelong practice.
1

Letter From the Editor
From the Editor
Letter Fro
I’ll start off by saying - THANK YOU! To all of our contributors, to the
organizations that have provided us with educational resources, to
Oxfam Canada for making a project like this financially feasible and to
amazing Black feminists in history like Audre Lorde and bell hooks
who’ve introduced us to the possibility of liberation for all.
Wellness Beyond the Binary exists under the idea that we can and
should live in a world free of binaries, societal norms and gendered
expectations. We believe in a world where access to adequate
healthcare resources for people of marginalized genders and
sexualities is seen as the standard and not the exception. Ultimately:
we dream of a place where every single individual has the right and
feels comfortable to exist as their most fulfilled and authentic self.
In addition to the maintenance of our digital resource that provides
networks of support for queer youth, we've had the amazing
opportunity to expand our community organization to something
we've been imagining for years. A zine! However, we wouldn’t have
been able to complete this journey without our 20 creative,
passionate and hardworking contributors.
Back in 2021, we asked folks to submit pieces around the themes of
“Sexuality & Pleasure.” Unsurprisingly, we were blown away by the
amazing pieces we received. Talking about sexuality and pleasure,
especially for those living in marginalized bodies, is no easy feat; this
zine sought out to emphasize everyone’s fundamental right to
pleasure - in all its forms. We encouraged pieces on sexuality, while
also making space for work that was more so sensual or intimate in
nature. From feeling pleasure by pleasuring a partner to exploring
euphoria for one’s own self, we’re excited to be sharing a wide
breadth of interpretations of this zine’s inaugural theme.
As you read through and view the works of our wonderfully fearless
and passionate queer creators, we encourage you to remember that
"there is no way to repress pleasure and expect liberation,
satisfaction, or joy” (adrienne maree brown, Pleasure Activism). So go
out and get it!
With love and care,
Jocelyn Wong
Co-Founder & Editor-in-Chief 2

The Moon Empress

Her beams of white light shone
down upon my naked body as I bore
my chest to the heavens.
And the empress filled me with her energies.

My legs shook and trembled,
as she reached within me.
Talons of white silks that gripped
the inner workings of my newly found,
awakened soul.

Her lips brushed sweetly along my breasts -
along the ridges where my hips fold inward,
and sang songs of sweet surrender
between my open thighs
as she warmed me, delightfully.

My fingers traced each movement she made.
Following in her wake, amplifying her gifts
of pleasure and wonderment,
as she guided a once lost soul
towards freedom and righteousness.

Her paled face watched me with an
accompaniment of pleasure and satisfaction
as I realized my pleasure came from my own hand
and all that she had provided me was light.

Isabelle Call (she/her) is a LGBTQA+ poet, author, and filmmaker from a small village in northern British Columbia. Her works focus
on overcoming trauma and learning to find self love. She incorporates elements of nature and spirituality into her work to remind
readers of the connection between the self and the natural world. Her past works have been published with Wandering Autumn
Magazine, Rebelle Society, Solstice Literary Magazine, and The C Word Magazine. The Moon Empress is written in relation to my
[Isabelle] own struggles and acceptance of self-pleasure and what it means to be a woman who owns her sexuality.

By:
Isabelle
Call
3

John (he/they) is a local
photographer with keen interests
in human expressions, either
through non-verbal cues, fashion,
designs, or other modes of
constructing meanings.
Photography is his way of giving
someone their voice and finding
different ranges of themselves.

Instagram: @whte.jp

“I strive to be an observer more
often than a participant. I want to
provide subjects with a safe
environment where they can find
themselves. We're so often
surrounded by three truths - ‘their
truth, our truth, and real truth.’ As
such, we develop facades to
show the world. More often than
not, the person in front of me
wants to show what they believe I
deserve to see. And somewhere
between a few hundred shutter-
clicks, I capture their three faces -
the face they show the world, the
face they want, and their ‘real
face.’ As for my style-- it is what
speaks to me: cheeky, authentic,
kind, raw, sensual, and tasteful
images.”
4

pleasure is a worthwhile
goal in and of itself
fragrant offering
a bible black out poem
the jewel, the glory, the pride
a bible black out poem

Eryn Johnson (she/they) is a queer breathwork facilitator,
energy worker, and writer based in Philadelphia. They write
to remember, to heal and to process. Her poetry explores
the impacts of religious trauma and cisheteropatriarchy,
telling stories of survival and of becoming.

These poems are an offering of reclamation of both
queerness and pleasure as sacred. They speak to the
liberatory power of embodying queerness and reclaiming
pleasure for ourselves.

Instagram @erynj_

By: Eryn Johnson
5

swimming
lessons By: Aliyah Clarke

Aliyah Clarke (she/her) is currently in her third year of Sheridan's Bachelor of Illustration.
“swimming pools” is very influenced by photography and by artist Ren Hang’s work.
It aims to emanate a delicate intimate, feeling - with the title alluding to lesbian oral sex.
Instagram: @aliyah_sara 6

i am no man
i am no woman
and i might not be an enby, either
i will not be your theyby, m'theydy
gentlethem, themtleman,
or whatever other strange phrase you try to shove down my throat
i do not owe you the illusion
of a typical nonbinary body
because there is no such thing
i will not be forced to sing
in stereotype
and i will not be silent, either
instead, i will sing
and sigh
and soliloquize
about femininity
my sweet, supple,
tantalizing truth
i was told
when womanhood and i parted ways
that our meetings were forbidden
to throw aside skirts,
burn bows and barrettes,
plus hide away my very present breasts
i was told
femininity
could not come with me
but i am not binary, nor trinary
i will not be your benignly boyish
neutrally androgynous ideal
femininity is my language
my lover, my light
femininity is not bound
to names, terms, or pronouns, either
femininity responds to
he, she,
they, xe, ve, we
& more
the skirts i wear
and how i feel about what's beneath them
have no relation to your preconceptions
(CW: mentions of dysphoria, transphobia)
to hell with the trinary, too
7

my gender is not pain
my gender is pleasure
and my self-made femme design
i am not your woman,
i'm my own dyke
and oh, what a phrase!
it melts on my tongue
sweet
and smooth
short skirts
shorter hair
if you're confused, i don't fucking care
i will not be your third gender
i will be me
in my own brand of androgyny
i weave my own iconography
the male gaze evaporates
scopophilia only remains
in a reflection
utterly
reclaimed
i am euphoric
i am whole
and i am holy
save for that
they are mine
and mine only
(unless you ask nicely)
my experience
is not universal
it belongs to me
and my lover femininity
do not tell me
what curves or crevices
my dysphoria
should find its home in
for that is where femininity loves me best
and plants the gentlest of kisses
do not let my pain
take the centre stage
because it is not me

Alex Masse (they/them) is a 21-year-old writer,
musician, and student residing in what is colonially
known as Vancouver, BC. The arts are a longtime love
of theirs, and their work has been seen everywhere
from the Scholastic Writing Awards to Vancouver
Pride, as well as in collaboration with Penelope Scott,
artsUNITE, She Does The City, and more. They’re also
a neurodivergent nonbinary lesbian, which greatly
affects their process. When not writing, they're making
music, and when not making music, they're writing.
Instagram & TikTok: @itsfairything

"to hell with the trinary, too," is about taking pleasure
in nonbinary identities - even when they don’t fit into
certain NB stereotypes. To many people, nonbinary is
just this neutral, androgynous "third gender" - but this
piece really seeks to challenge that. It was pretty
heavily inspired by a freelance gig where I [Alex] was
told it was "too confusing" that I was nonbinary and
still wore skirts - if you can believe it!
8

To Your Surprise
In a straight presenting relationship,
People assume a lot of things.
Since I am the one with breasts,
One would assume I am female.
Since I am with a man,
One would assume I am straight.
Neither of these things are true.
I am proudly nonbinary, pansexual, and in an open relationship.
He is my moon and stars, illuminating my night sky.
And, to your surprise, he is bisexual.
Being in a straight presenting relationship,
our queerness is hidden.
But I assure you:
We are loud,
we are proud,
and we are tired.
This Body is Whole

In my time alone,
I make my body dance.
I explore her,
running my hands along her curves and divots.
I take the body I was given and I make her feel good.
I take the time to remind myself that this body is good.
This body is whole.
I treasure this time, alone with myself.
I traverse her every inch,
reminding myself that it’s okay to love the flesh I was given.
And damn, does it ever feel good!
As I reach the peak of pleasure, I remind myself that this, in and of
itself, is an inherently holy act.
I am worshipping that which I was given.
My body is a Goddess,
and no one can tell me otherwise.

Wonderful Conclusion
When he looks into my eyes,
I can’t help but smile as my whole body reacts.
Kissing him is like connecting with an angel,
(or at least, it’s like what I think angels would be like):
Soft, warm, and full of love and safety.
When our bodies intertwine,
It’s like magic.
It’s not sex, it’s love.
Well, it is sex…
But I swear to you I’ve never felt anything quite like it.
A carnal connection between me and the person closest to me.
He knows all my secrets, knows my past,
and yet he chooses to give me pleasure instead of hatred.
He chooses to make me feel good,
and man, do I ever feel good.
The pressure and pulsation of our bodies in time with each other,
Leading us to a wonderful conclusion.
Sam Poulin (they/them) is a 22-
year-old, non-binary, pansexual
and disabled artist living in
Sudbury, Ontario. They take great
pride in their creativity and strive
to illuminate the world with their
works. Their connection to
pleasure and sexuality comes
from their aim to be sex positive,
as well as their time spent working
in adult stores.

Instagram: @Sam__Poulin
Twitter: @ahumanbean13

By: Sam Poulin
9

I often find the gender-neutral pronouns of our own languages to be untranslatable. The genderlessness of “dia” in
Indonesian is both fluid and neutral. The Persian “‫او‬ “turns the Muslim mysticsm of Hafez and broken glass words of
Forough Farrokhzad into a hand mirror that anyone can hold.
The liberative promise of “they/them” as a break from the lingual binary of English was something I held onto for
years. I thought the pinch and prodding I felt when I heard it in other’s mouths was a learning-curve, a slight
adjustment period that reminded me I had been assigned female at birth for the entirety of my English speaking
experience.
But I thought about the way my Elders in the desa held my name, how my name was conceived before I was and
every mistakened stutter between “he” and “she” my parents have before switching languages altogether. And
finally one night, with sudden clarity and in one exasperated sigh, I said to myself, “My ancestors can’t find me.”
And if this language, built and borrowed from so many others, didn’t even have a loanword that could encompass
me then I would offer something else. My name as my pronoun is a loan-practice. In Indonesian, referring to
someone in third person—including yourself—is how strangers show respect or politeness and how Elders show
closeness.
So I reintroduce myself in spaces familiar and new: “My name is Romila,” I said. “No pronouns, just Romila.” And I
listen to how my community uses my name in a sentence and it brings my entire being into conversations. Whole
and complex in ways that would otherwise just assume all the parts of me. I was struck by its comfort.
English is a house that asks my gender identity, culture and spirituality to live in separate rooms and I struggle to
make a home of that. So I make living rooms of moments: my jiwa, a fireplace that never goes out; my presence,
space making the size of our shared venue; my name, the only one I will never need to carry the entirety of myself
and my family throughout time itself. My name as my pronoun reclaims an intersectional understanding of my
gender neutrality, affirms the many ways I perform the spectrum of masculinity and femininity depending on the
time of day and what I ate for breakfast, and an invitation to challenge the English language through my existence.
I have made a living room of moments and, in doing so, a home in this body.
My pronoun IS
My Name
By: Romila Barryman
Romila is a writer, facilitator and cyber-mystic of kejawen and Zoroastrian ancestry based on the never surrendered,
ancestral Sḵwx̱ wú7mesh (Squamish), xʷməθkʷəy̓ əm (Musqueam) and Səl̓ílwətaʔ (Tsleil-Waututh) village site of Sen̓ áḵw.
Romila writes to engage in the practice of eling, using the present as a portal into futures we can remember and pasts
we can reimagine. My Pronoun Is My Name explores the everyday pleasure of gender affirmation. This personal essay
takes readers through a personal account of agenderism and models ways in which pronoun experimentation can
occur in the safety and care of community. Instagram: @ro_mila_
10

There is a version of me:
That is slowly rolling black stockings up to their thighs
just to tease me with an extra layer of clothing to wrestle with.
That is painting their skin with black lace
whether others can see it or not.
That is spending hours getting their nails to the perfect length with a file.
That lets all the hair on their body grow out but keeps their head cut in a short style.
One that is taking the time to caress each strand on that head,
and one version that wishes it would all fall out.
One that is letting the warmth of the showerhead envelope themselves.
One that is instead lying on the tile hoping it washes them down the drain.
That is waking up at 2am splitting their body in half like a pomegranate
in an act of desperation, afraid they will never taste again.
That enjoys the sweet stares and lingering gazes,
but feel it turn rancid as they navigate the maze,
of whether outside eyes explore their body for what it is.
Or, are they grasping at a guess that’s incorrect?
That dreams their one-person dance parties take place in a packed club,
where bodies close their eyes and hands get tangled in anything but other hands.
That is sent so many glasses of bubbly filled to the brim
that their tears have an alcohol content.
That is concocting a plethora of versions of myself.
And one that’s bones demand you in order to feel something.
But then there is a version of me
and all that I require to experience pleasure is
(Binder off. Binder on. Baggy plaid pajamas. Button up top. Body-hugging green velvet
dress. A little bit drunk. Completely sober. Singing in the car with the windows down at
the top of my lungs. Diving in the ocean no matter the weather. Eating ice cream for
dinner. Recognizing my eyes in the mirror.)
Me.
T
h
e
r
e
I
s
a Ver
s
i
o
n
o
f
M
e
By:
August
Elzinga
August Elzinga (they/them) is a queer and trans non-binary poet, playwright, actor, and performance artist. They are a
graduate of the Canadian College of Performing Arts’ ‘Company C’ program and recently completed their Bachelor of
Performing Arts from Capilano University. A highlight in their writing career was being mentored with The Frank Theatre's
Telling It Bent program. When not in the theatre you can find August performing around town as local drag thing, Bromley
B. Instagram: @august_isover
11

By: Sandy Nguyen
Sandy Nguyen (she/her) is a queer, Vietnamese, emerging artist from Vancouver, BC. Her diverse,
growing portfolio currently includes digital art and tattoo designs, and soon she intends to add
lingerie design to the list. “Hot Hands,” is a digital illustration made with ProCreate and it features a
full-figured body caressing herself. On both sides of her, there are roses being touched by delicate
fingers. This image was inspired by body positivity, self love, and the colours of the pansexual flag.

H o t H a n d s
12

Can you recall when you received an explanation about the birds
and the bees? Did a clueless high school teacher attempt to educate
you on the intricacies of sexual health followed by an hour-long
video that barely scratched the surface? Or maybe you are a victim
of purity culture and therefore had to depend solely on the media –
interacting with explicit content out of sheer curiosity. Growing up
religious, I learned abstinence-only sex education. At sixteen years
old, a stern teacher insisted that any form of intimacy that could lead
to sex was sinful – even kissing when done out of wedlock. As a
result, I felt shame for craving sexual intimacy, particularly with
someone of the same gender. Often, adolescents interact with
explicit content early on to uncover answers to questions omitted by
the current curriculum.
As I grew older and overcame sexual shame by engaging in
conversations, I realized that many of my peers, especially those
who do not identify as cisgender or straight, never received the
proper support to develop into sexually intelligent adults.
"Comprehensive sex-positive sex education is super important," says
Alysha Somerton (she/her), a queer educator who offers lessons
from a strength-based and trauma-informed lens to address the
unique experiences of individuals. Before facilitating workshops, she
attended a seven-month intensive program at Options for Sexual
Health, where she unpacked assumptions and biases resulting from
growing up in a sex-negative society. Her approach is no-bullshit,
accurate and informative. We have questions, and Alysha's role is to
answer them.
We began our conversation by discussing what is currently missing
from the curriculum—to no one's surprise—a lot is not covered, and
in most cases, teachers do not have the proper training to hold
space for discussions about sexual health, pleasure, and healthy
relationships. "It baffles me that we expect young people to go out
into the world with no idea about their bodies or relationships," says
Alysha. That's where her expertise comes in handy.
More Than "The Talk"
The Importance of Comprehensive Sex Education
- An interview with Alysha Sommerton -

B y : A l e x i s Z y g a n
For younger audiences, Alysha discusses puberty, how to
claim ownership over their bodies and when it's appropriate
to explore self-pleasure. Kids' honest curiosity leads them to
ponder out loud. In some cases, they’ll ask silly questions
such as, “can you milk a boob like a cow?” When answering,
Alysha considers what the person is trying to understand. She
replies that yes, pregnant women's breasts do produce milk.
For teenagers and young adults, her talking points differ. For
example, many of us learned myths about contraception,
such as that Plan B can cause infertility. Alysha debunks this
myth, as Plan B is part of the same drug group as Tylenol.
She also addresses hormone replacement therapy and
reminds attendees to be regularly tested for sexually-
transmitted infections and diseases. Her goal as a facilitator,
regardless of which age group she's presenting to, is to equip
participants with the information to make informed decisions
or seek advice from a medical health professional.
13

In 2016, Alysha was travelling across Europe when she had an
epiphany to pursue a career as a sex educator. At the time, she
had no idea how to achieve this goal. Nevertheless, given her life
experience, it makes sense why she pursued this career path. At
thirteen, her curiosity led to watching sex educators on youtube,
sharing her findings with friends at school. Soon after, her cousin
texted a photo of her underwear to me, asking if the colour of her
discharge was normal. So she did her research to provide her
cousin with an answer. Growing up, she felt inspired after
receiving a presentation from sex-educator Saleema Noon, who
brought a vulva puppet to encourage play when interacting with
the audience. "It was never something I thought I'd ever be able to
do," says Alysha. You have to forge your path because there isn't a
job you can apply to; a role like this requires an entrepreneurial
mindset, openness, and an ability to facilitate conversations on
taboo topics. For Alysha, it's surreal to be the one presenting to
elementary school students after looking up to Saleema Noon
since she meeting her in grade six.
As someone who has struggled with her identity in the past,
Alysha wants to be an inclusive voice that reminds folks it's okay
not to know how you identify. Sexuality is fluid, a spectrum - and
gender is a social construct. "I wish someone told me that I can
like guys and girls differently," says Alysha. Or that conversations
on body parts shouldn't include gender-specific language. Or that
Intersex people aren't as rare as we may think. 1.7% of the
population is born with intersex traits - as common as redheads. "I
think that if my peers and I were taught this stuff growing up, it
would have been easier, and people would have been more
accepting and loving towards themselves and others," says
Alysha. As a teenager, I would have benefited from a presentation
on consent and boundaries. When asked to summarize the
nuanced topic, Alysha emphasizes listening to your gut. When
engaging in sex, if you're questioning, stop and check in. If they're
not super enthusiastic, it's not a yes. She also recommends the
video Tea Consent produced by Blue Seat Studios.
When presenting in classrooms, Alysha commences with a
community agreement where attendees make a list of guidelines
to follow. One of these is the bathroom rule. "If someone feels
overwhelmed or triggered and needs a second to take a break,
they can get up and leave the room during the presentation. And
everyone's just going to assume that they're going to the
bathroom," says Alysha. She also brings sensory items to support
relaxation stimulation and includes a humorous video about wet
dreams from amaze.org, a platform whose mission is to take the
awkward out of sex ed. Alysha hopes to eventually expand her
portfolio to include a workshop for parents before she enters the
classrooms where she would offer support on how to have
conversations with their kids about sex. Those without a trusted
guardian can call the Options for Sexual Health Sex Sense line
available Monday to Friday from 9 am to 9 pm. Alternatively, they
can email their questions if that feels more comfortable.
A trained sexual educator offers support on various topics
relating to contraception, 2SLGBTQIA+ health, menstruation,
abortion, genital health, STDs, orgasms. "Sometimes, I'll even get
a question. And I'm like, I have no idea how to answer that. So I'll
call the line and get information to help me be well equipped to
answer them," says Alysha. She ensures to mention the line
multiple times during the presentation and writes it on the board
so students can take note of it. Because she's only with the
students for about an hour, it's vital to provide resources they
can access when unfamiliar feelings arise.
We need to continue having conversations about sexual health,
sexuality and relationships as it impacts us for our entire life.
Alysha's website https://morethanthetalk.com/ features
fantastic resources. Speaking with Alysha affirmed that receiving
a presentation from a trained sexual educator would have
greatly benefited my younger self. In the future, I would love to
explore an even more taboo side of sex – kinks and the BDSM
community.
B y : A l e x i s Z y g a n
Alexis Zygan (she/her) is a first-generation Canadian and queer creative residing in Montreal. She graduated in 2019
from Capilano University with a Bachelor of Communications Studies. Her bold personality and strong values shine
through in her essays and interviews. Her work has been published in Capilano Courier, Sad Mag and Exclaim! in
addition to contributing to the VanArtLink blog. Her friends describe her as empathetic, funny and loyal. Her
courageous character drives her passion for embracing unique ideas and seeking adventure. She dabbles in analogue
photography with her trusty Canon AE-1 camera in her spare time. Alexis currently works in the non-profit sector and
continues to write when inspiration strikes. You can view her writing on alexiszygan.ca.
14

naked, naked,
can’t believe I’m of skin and bones,
raw, collapsing at the touch.
shameful, shameful,
can’t believe I’m ashamed of myself,
get your paws off me, please.
one day when I come “home”
I will close the door behind me,
take my shoes off,
and know this is the place I can become bare
in the mere lines
of this poem,
it’ll be hard to say what i want to say
to you.
—but i’ll try my best
always,
for you
i etched all our memories
in my hands, heart, brain, steady breaths
i’m forgetful, i don’t want to forget
surely my body will
remember:
butterflies
blood rushing,
bones, bones, bones
the bittersweet ache
that accompanies becoming alive
is this feeling true?
for now, will you be my forever?
Eos Forus (they/he) is missing something and doesn't know what.
But they hope to eventually find out. They also like sleeping.

Artist statement: “It is my hope that the exclusive sensations felt by
my body, expressed through these poems, aren’t actually exclusive
at all, and that many readers, with different bodies than mine, can
also resonate with what I have written.”

By: Eos Forus
Home Is Where the Heart Is
The First Love Poem
I’ve Ever Written

c o m p l i m e n t a r y
I watched their breaths draw and close
I watched their eyes stop time
I watched a hand cross a heart
I watched a heart rise and revive
I watched her lips and her lips touch
When those women loved each other,
they knew the world had ended.
She cannot love her,
But she can
No, she will not
But she will
The Mayans, Christians,
and countless other blathering idiots conspire
Yet only a handful of people know the truth.
Truly, the end of days is—
When a woman loves another woman.
I met her
And her lover
All of them
All of their lovers
At the end of the world
Why do you continue to love so recklessly?
One woman-lover cried out,
I will wreck myself before the world wrecks me
Another retorted,
it is because I hate myself recklessly that I can love like this
And even more chimed in to say, this is not love, this transcends it

What is it like to kiss a woman?
Like a dream,
where you find yourself falling into an endless pit,
then you suddenly wake up,
a woman-kisser sighed
No, it is simply the feeling of opening your eyes and being alive,
her lover smiled
One woman beckoned to the encroaching doomsday sky,
tearing apart at the seams
To me, it feels like this

Is it really that simple?
Women loving other women?
With their last breaths,
Half of them said yes
Half of them said no

Why am I loved?
It was too late—

Why am I so alone?
Everyone was dead.

APOCALYPSE

By: Eos Phorus
CW: Mention of LGBT death & general violence
17

Every Curve
Has a story
Every single hair on the belly
Every mole
Every scar
We have forgotten
The art of storytelling
When we see nipples
We are not reminded of poetry
When we see necks
We are not bound to a kiss
The shape
With its ideal obscenity
Is seen behind a tin can
It provides us of the reality
Of all the faults we learnt to call history
The honesty and sincerity
Of all the trivial heresies we call ethics
Every buttocks
Cracks down the taken for granted
Lies of the perilous candor
In a pure sight
A full-frontal nudity is the only genuine clothing
You have a story to tell
And I have a poem to recite
The world is mute and deaf
We are made mute and deaf
It is not about pleasure
It’s about suffering
Naturality
And resisting the absurdity
Adult Discontent
Sohrab Mosaheb (he/they) is an Iranian student of English
Literature at the University of Victoria, British Columbia. He
has been writing poetry in his mother tongue (Persian) since
he was eight and started writing in English in the early 2010s.
He reads philosophy, plays musical instruments and follows
amateur photography. His philosophical and socio-political
worldview is usually his main inspiration for his art, and he
tries to combine his poetic nature with other mediums like
sound and vision. He is trying to break down all binaries, as
well as every taken-as-self-evident social idea and see the
world beyond what is constructed socially.

Instagram: @sohrabmosaheb | www.sohrabmosaheb.com
By: Sohrab Mosaheb
18

cake for breakfast, you for lunch.
sweetness on your terms.
we learn each other quickly, effortlessly.
a sweetness i’ve yearned:
years of rice crackers and sitting 3 feet apart on the couch.
as if decadence were a sin.
the proverbial sweet tooth shamed away - but why?
there is nothing holier than thou,
holding me in tow.
the problem with pleasure:
how can you know you are truly worthy of it?
i lick my fingers clean.

Adina V (she/her) is a 24 year old singer-songwriter and poet currently based in Toronto. Her writing aims to
showcase and dissect intimate feelings with the goal of tugging on her audience's heartstrings. Her poem, red
velvet, is a musing on pleasures both sexual and physical; standing now on the shaky but so worthwhile other
side of an eating disorder and neglectful relationship, Adina reflects on the shame often surrounding the
indulgence of pleasure, and how sweet it is to finally return to things that feel good. Instagram: @adinavmusic
red velvet
By:
Adina
V
19

Taylor Neal (she/they) is a Canadian multi-disciplinary artist, writer, yoga instructor and sex
worker’s advocacy support worker. They continuously strive to gain deeper understandings
of the endless complexity that is the human experience through translating life into art - both
verbal and visual. Practically, Taylor combines their background in dance and performance,
their passion for the written word, and their curiosity within contemporary visual art and
photography, with their studies in Communications, Art History, Feminist Theory, Design for
Theatre and Fashion Design. Their cumulative artistic, somatic, and literary practice comes
together as a holistic exploration of identity, movement, sexuality, and how the embodied
subject navigates space and the natural world.
The photo series; W(Om)b, 2021, is an exploration of the relationship
between bodies and nature, bodies in nature, intimacy between
humans and nature. It’s about recognizing the curves of our bodies
and our sensuality as it is innately connected to nature. It celebrates
being held and cherished, honoured and protected by Earth Mother,
as we are a part of nature, and not apart from nature.
W
(
O
m
)
b
B
y
:
T
a
y
l
o
r
N
e
a
l
20

Your lips, a life raft
thrown to me in the dark
I found them
among the overpriced drinks
and fellow tipsy queers.
From the stage
the beauty of masculinity
in flux
spilled over the crowd,
perfume from your dichotomy body.
A twenty held high,
flag of surrender
painted green
in the dirty hand of a stranger.
A stranger longing to take you home
only to let you fall back here
alone —
I wanted more and
so did you, I could
see it in your eyes
as you took his money
with your teeth and
never broke your gaze
from mine.
Was that the money
you used
to buy our drinks
after the show?
You led me outside,
an honour —
you could’ve chosen any boy in the bar /
you chose me.
Cigarette and gin
on your life raft lips,
you chose me.

From the stage,
you chose me.

Joshua Monk (he/him) is a writer originating from Treaty 3 territory. He now lives on the
traditional territory of the Anishinaabeg, Haudenosaunee, Attawandaron, and
Lunaapeewak peoples — the city colonially referred to as London. For Joshua, his
chosen medium of poetry comes both from passion and necessity, helping him move
through the world that lives within and around him. His work commonly centres themes
of sexuality, change, challenging false notions of normative masculinity and femininity,
fluidity, self-exploration, and the natural world. From the stage, you chose me, published
in Binaries are Bullshit, is Joshua’s first published work. Instagram: @josh.monk
B
y
:
J
o
s
h
u
a
M
o
n
k
21

The artist of this untitled piece had a wonderful time thinking about the themes of
sexuality and pleasure and how they could be visually represented. To their mind,
soft hand touches and tracing is something very sensual and pleasureful - even if
not necessarily sexual at times. The graphic consists of photos that the artist took
and manipulated digitally. Instagram: @cyberlimbix
22

t a s t i n g y o u
undress fast so i can taste you slowly i want to devour you
every moment is more delicious than the last and i’m savouring every bite
ican feel you getting close but i take my time
enjoy every second i stop to look at you
i can’t help it
it’s too good to pass up
you’re almost done but i make you wait a little longer
i want to explore every inch of you
we’re both almost there
i hear you cry out and i know it’s over
i start to feel sad wondering if i’ll get to taste you again
By: Kate Long

Kate Long (they/them) is a writer and artist living and working in so-called Vancouver. Kate is a femme nonbinary lesbian
who uses art and writing to help them sort out their identity. Their creativity comes from their overactive imagination and
inspiration from their real life. Kate moved to Vancouver from Ontario in 2019 to explore the natural wonders of British
Columbia and found home and friendship in the city. Kate’s poem, tasting you, is a nod to the feeling of finding pleasure in
pleasing your partner, and avoiding gender dysphoria by focusing on them. Instagram: @kaatelong | Twitter: @KaatieLong

23

Eyes half-opened,
still stunned
catching my breath
I asked:
Would you like a towel?

A few moons ago, you mentioned
stand up comedy
was not your cup of tea
Under tonight’s moon, you laughed softly
At my unintentional punchline

Shall we trade places?
Heckle you sweetly:
Was this the first time,
the bare minimum,
was ever offered to you?

But my act is almost up, so tell me:
how do you calm during the comedown?
tender touch? soft kisses?
I only want to hook you up
with a cherished rendezvous

One-Night Comedy
By: April Alayon
“One-Night Comedy” is a commentary on how casual
sexual encounters do not have to be boring, empty, or
cold. They can be fun, caring and memorable!

to be responsible for your
own pleasure
own pleasure
own pleasure

softer
call me your local tour guide
vocal not loud
assertive not selfish
to the left
I am a local resident of this body
giving proper directions to a visitor
to reach my divine home
kiss me
guess where it tickles
nibble my ears gently
I might just give you a hint
too fast
pause, check in, ask
how to get there
where and when to stop
don’t stop
here to ensure
itineraries of my pleasure
are met with a five-star rating
By: April Alayon
25

www.wellnessbeyondthebinary.ca

Binaries Are Bullshit: Issue 001 - Sexuality & Pleasure

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