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To be in love
By Elika Khosravani It is spring again and everyone is day-dreaming about falling in love again. Again. And again and again and again, until it finally sticks. So my mind, naturally, is also turned towards love. To be in love, I imagine, must feel like a lighthouse. A crumbling column on a crag, dangling delicately over the frothing sea. A lonely boat, guided by a single lantern and a ramshackled anchor, hesitantly heads toward the shoreline, toward the red and white tower, a
Elika Khosravani


XVIII
Jewel Anderson The sky’s white mirror makes a feast of me— eyes first, then teeth, then pulse. I open my mouth and she swallows the sound. The light bends wrong tonight. I step into it and it steps back. My shadow clings and flakes like psoriasis. The shine is a trick, a white worm. It crawls the length of my arm, makes veins into rivers, rivers into ropes. I told the doctor I was cured. He smiled, yellow crescent, and asked who was speaking. My mouth is a traitor— The tide l
Jewel Anderson


Devotee
By Jewel Andersen Oscillating between reality’s thin wires, flashes of Samhain fiending fleshed fires. Echo poised on the cliff’s edge seam, fish-mouthed and bowed in gaping scream. Or Ophelia — weed-laced and willow dazed. Nettle at wrist, daisy gaze half-raised. Foam-veiled, unmade, she mouths the flood — dream-drunk on silt and spindle-blood.
Jewel Andersen


Firewood
By Joseph Griffiths I lived my life like the recluse tucked within his barky coat amid the dark boreal forest I kept still, not wishing to uproot that hidden light and dark, knowledge I only wished to see everyday, more terribly that beautiful thing that passed me he seemed moved or stuck in some otherworldly energy a love, it was obvious, that would elude my judgement. Until one day, he began hacking and I was feeling unsteady later, in the evening, snapping into my bed, cu
Joseph Griffiths
You’re Almost There (Kinda)
By Elika Khosravani On a sun-stained Sunday, I waltz this island tip-to-tip and think of everything I do not know yet. I am pulled in...
Elika Khosravani
Temptations
By Armando Javier Gimenez The porch is a tether to the homeland. Flies circle the basil and ivy laid across wooden rails. A...
Armando Javier Gimenez
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