Fiction

Poetry

Ca’Venezia: Your Voice

  Your voice alights on my armhair, a whiff of cigar smoke— caramel, and ghostly— “Cities die; let them.” Black thing to say. I patter

Poetry

A Photo Found in Black and White

Coincidence did not cause the young man’s cheek to share the curve of mine in his gray, buttered face. His finger-combed hair wet with grease,

Poetry

Kierston

Meet me in the mountains Of Oregon (Washington’s been having too many fires). It won’t be hard to find me- Just look for the earthship,

Short Story

You Look Just Like Your Sister

  The red door to my home opened and the fresh smell of warm turkey and cranberry sauce collided with my senses the way Sticky