Charlotte M Can the earth itself hold memory? The forest planted to conceal Sobibor extermination camp. The roots of this forest run deeper than most, They stretch back not only through time, But in hate and in death and in bloodshed A forest was born from a crime. This crime was itself a collection, An… Read More The Roots of a Forest

Nick Corvino My hands are leaves that became hands. I’ve had rain pass through them. Between my linen sleeves to dry like roasted stones. ++++++Maybe I remember, burrowed in the prurience of our dark mountainous flame,   She had thawed the frosted embers of my sleep and carved my soul to fleshy thumbs. It was… Read More In Death Valley

Ahlaam Moledina At the day’s blunt edge I finally finish replanting the seeds you took from the soil and cracked open with your cracked teeth lost to that bloody trench in your abdomen and reaching into it I curled my hand around each seed like a surly child and while you slept I returned them… Read More Sunflower Seeds

Elena Andrews There is a pang of inescapable fear As I look across the open plains rolling away from me, Far as the eye can almost see, A greyness settling heavy above. It’s a sad fear, a lonely fear, One that doesn’t grip but sits low in my belly because I’m a child again, In… Read More Open Plains

Elena Andrews How beautiful it is that one Little thing, A drop of color that spreads in Nature’s own perfect way, Can change everything. I step outside and blue upon Blue upon Blue comes Crashing down on me and I want to be untangled suddenly to Roam the wild reaches, Fingers tracing patterns through the… Read More Nature’s Own Perfect Way

Chloe Chow you’re chewing holes in your lip folded up tight and clean ++++++arcing and trembling ++++++i can hear you praying from here. jesus, you’re loud. ++++++i don’t think that’ll get you far damnation is an ugly word ++++++smudged near the edges +++++++++++round and full baby, i’ll make it feel like something else. he’ll take… Read More mercy

Taylor Feld When the dog died, I saw it. Stillness on stillness, animal to object. We outlive. I stayed in that room examining death — where they put the needle, where the eyes look. Empty frame, lend me lycanthropy. Let me bark and bolt on four strong limbs beyond mortality. Keening dog-sounds when I see… Read More the dog on the ground / the boy in the box