by Keana Aguila Labra Natalie reminds me of a song that should have been longer, that’s how good it is. The reader is immediately sucked into Keana’s heavy imagery and meticulous style of words as she expresses her love and heartbreak. This is a walk down memory lane you’d want to take while learning to … Continue reading Natalie
by Jide Badmus It’s a rainy morning.The earth breathescold on its citizens.I reach for a blanket offlesh that is unavailable. The room is filledwith pieces of you—strands of hair,vestige of scent,mirage of smile &a ghost of your voice.There is a depressionon your side of the bed—but these walls struggleto reconstruct memories.The mirror claims not torecall … Continue reading Cold Room
by Joseph Rogers Through these wooden bars I see a scene enacted without me: joy painted across your face; an understudy in my rightful place. This vinyl booth becomes my jail, a prison of whiskey with shots for bail, while red searchlights illuminate the empty glasses that spell my fate. We spoke until the sun … Continue reading Whiskey Jail
Dualities I slept with your glove(maroon, leather)woven between my fingers.It smelled like you. I awoke with your glove(leather, maroon)pressed against my naked chest.It smelled like me. How quickly you leave me.How quickly we forget. Consummation There are nights like this.Nights you rush through to seeif colors are more vibranton the other sideSolitude is an arta … Continue reading Three Poems by Rae Rozman
by Taleen Mardirossian My tongue belongs to two lovers. I spend my days with one, my nights with the other. One is older, much older, much wiser. He’s had fewer lovers, so I am careful not to lose him. I wear his poetry on my lips, his dances in my feet. He’s a wanderer, a traveler– … Continue reading Two Native Tongues
by Sarah Mackey Kirby You caught me in the trawler of your sapphire stare. Kissed scars on battered heart that struggles more and more to beat. And blood to bleed. Where broken nights await you. This fate. This love I’ve watered till roots dug deep for you. Just in time to germinate your future. I … Continue reading Sunset
by Lucy Zhang My first love taught me how to fold a pinwheel. You need a square sheet of paper, he told me. But I had no square paper on hand, so we snuck a stack of white 8.5 by 11 printer paper from the classroom supplies closet. You can use this as a bookmark, … Continue reading My Love is on Paper Only
by Ed Ahern When I was fourteen there was a girl I thought was cute but never had the nerve to chase. We spent four years near but never close and thirty years in mutual ignorance. Her image lingered in what-if conjectures about who I’d guessed her to be and how we might have meshed … Continue reading Joyce
Objects in the Overhead Bin May Shift During Travel by Alexandra Morean
Alexandra Morean is currently getting her BA in writing, editing, and publishing as well as music production. She was born in Venezuela and grew up in Miami, Florida, soaking in all kinds of culture and inspiration. Alexandra hopes to connect with her readers on a spiritual level and provide comfort and aid to those who relate with her work. Continue reading Objects in the Overhead Bin May Shift During Travel
by William Doreski This is our third honeymoon and the first on which you’ve spoken to me, to anyone. The Volga flows under our little room. The innkeeper wields no recognizable language. Your native Russian means nothing to him. When English falls from my mouth it writhes on the carpet, where he extinguishes it with … Continue reading Honeymoon on the Volga
Dream Noir 