September Peach By Isobel Stevenson I bite into September like a ripe peach when really I still crave July July was a haunting; Falling onto your shoulder, expecting to land and hitting the floor instead Maybe in December I’ll be able to write beautifully about it all I’ll talk about the cracked…
Two poems by Eva Rami Mama & Me When Mother Earth crafted me From the damp mud lining the Ganges River, it was My Mama who picked me from the delta, And cradled me to her stomach. She dressed me in skirts, woven of fibers from the clouds, And cradled my head in…
Two by Safia Chilakapti Heroine Addict I met you in the spring, gathering brisk air between my fingers like thread tied in thick knots. I always came back to this, to the softness of the lake and the water lapping at the sides of the dock. The moment, the habit, it smelled…
This Is What It Is by Safia Chilakapati The truth of the matter is this: You are my sister by blood – but most importantly to you, by law. If legal chains did not bind you to me, you’d be gone faster than daddy’s first car, the Infinity, the one you were supposed to…
The Match is Getting Shorter by AVALON HOGANS I mourned my own life three times last Summer. I think I’m being followed. My shadow is stuck to the concrete like tar. My feet freeze with the fear of a thousand male black widows. I hate crying in front of people, but my tears…