Man by Meysa Addeh

Like the mealworm which squirms wrestles, strenuously against the stubborn beak of the wild bird.   Or the silk dress that hangs lifelessly on my shoulders gauche, draping my curves assembling and accentuating my flaws   I wonder why the love of a man has never befitted me? Why it only suffocates me. Photo by... Continue Reading →

Spare Parts by Aurora Bishop

For sale: One body, barely touched. Does not respond well to sudden movements or grand romantic gestures. All offers will be considered. For sale: One heart, awfully battered. Decorated with deep scars. It once belonged to someone special. Previous owner has upgraded. For sale: One soul, gently used. Comes in shades of grey. Has a... Continue Reading →

Resentment by Yves K. Morrow

I watch him for a long time my soul beating itself to death behind two blue, convex windows. He lies flat, face white as an envelope, eyes motionless and entombed. There is only water between us fathoms of tears curdled and blackened by unresolveable tempests. His kisses are soft and evocative like smoke but he... Continue Reading →

Childless by David Spicer

After my father’s funeral, in my mother’s living room of cheap recliners, a television terminal with audio gloom, and a sofa of sags, an aunt’s pipe-smoking husband asked, Are you going to have kids? I scowled, Not your business, but no. He said, Come on, Clare, let’s go, your nephew didn’t like my question, and as they drove away... Continue Reading →

Good News by Connor Orrico

In the waiting room I stare down at my worn shoes, holes in the fabric where a child's superhero sneakers might light up. Contrasting dirt brown against sterile white flooring, the picture is familiar and again I wonder if these feet will ever bring good news to someone like me in the future. I guess... Continue Reading →

Too Much by Joan Colby

It was like running cool water over your wrists On the hottest day of the summer. Windless and wordless.   Like clouds lumbering up the slope of the sky Burdened with moisture like Sherpas Who do this for the money.   Like those who died on the trek Wanting to accomplish something They could not... Continue Reading →

Blue Swan by Clarice Hare

Still sheathed in silk velvet and lacquer with a flesh-smudged mask of henna, I glide out to the lanai. The tangerine night light shines down against the greenery of morning. I dip into my bag, find Klimt peacocked Murano, and bowl the cottony sipper of my narcotic— Alpinist 99. I look to my left. A... Continue Reading →

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