Fiction
The Day of Our Meeting
I dreamed of the day, In the dead of winter, A dreary day, When I’d step off the train And see you there- The day
The Kiss Was Not For You
I thought of someone else while I kissed my boyfriend. “I did that once,” I said. “Oh no you didn’t.” said Heather. She’s the girl
Godland: Sammie Jo
Sammie Jo don’t talk much. Her mother like to cut out her tongue any time she speaks up. A bone outta socket. As big as
Skirt
I. I see a video of women cycling in short dresses talking of how not to flash. They wide-angled their legs, pull the back of
Antagonistic Environment
he swears that the desert is laughing, mocking him with the distant wail of the wind, the hoot of an owl. each spray of dry
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