Current Issue

First Morning

first morning together/he asks for/sugar

Self-Portrait of A Sinking Orphan

i find my mother’s sun-dried/face plastered against the windows–/she looks as foreign as the language/of my grief and the absence of/her skin and my faith

I Piss in a Bedpan

Doctors call me: I answer/If I love you: it’s straight to voice mail

Tired of Being an Estuary

lay one/single finger, &/i’ll scream until negative/space holds itself in wait

by Ananya Sahoo I. “Beds are meant to be woken up from, Not misused as a sanctuary.” Sunlight slices through my windowtill my eyes smart.My pillow smells like dandelions in a faraway mystical land. Just five more minutes… Read More »Grounding

Mending

by Kristin Camitta Zimet You’ve cut out a hole. You can’t know,as the dog can’t guess where you wenton the other side of the back doorfor four days, though you almost think he must, because he… Read More »Mending

Sugar Crash

by Ananya Sahoo TW: Sexual Abuse I. I don’t check under the bed anymore. Did you know evil looked human,And ate dinner at your table? One hand on the cutlery, another on my frill clad thigh,Is this why… Read More »Sugar Crash

He Ate Three-Fourths

by Snehal Amembal I always sought solace in three fourths You, my fussy toddler would play havoc with my nervesMe, second-guessing, hoping you’d eatA bowl of porridge A plateful of rice A slice of fruit An almost round chapatti You… Read More »He Ate Three-Fourths

Aphrodisiac

by Ananya Sahoo TW: Sexual assault I. Aren’t broken lips aphrodisiacs? It’s date night and I wore your favorite shade of lilac lipstick.See? It matches my left eye perfectly. And Tuesday’s ‘discussion’ is peeping out shylyFrom beneath… Read More »Aphrodisiac

Next in Line

A tower has two stories. The top floor window depicts a woman wrapped in black. Her hair is ragged and her expression distraught but the most striking thing about her is her wild, piercing cry… Read More »Next in Line