Fiction

Poetry

Opposable

How do I write with these frantic fingers Left index plugs tearing right aorta Right hand holds closed ripping left ventricle I am hopelessly, entirely

Poetry

Edit

Can’t you let the film spool unseen on the stained floor? Its frames forever static as my fingers resplice our hands. Let my battalions of

Short Story

Destination Zero

It’s been 6 months, 13 days and 4 hours since I last weighed myself. I hid the scales in a plastic bag under some books