Poem: Restless

Becoming aware that your bed is meant to fit two people and becoming aware that it only houses you When you lay down at the end of a long day with the feeling like you’ve forgotten something But really it’s a someone And the essence of their absence has left you with amnesia

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Poem: Raw

Like wanting to carve my own body, up through intestines and stomach and liver to the residence of the heart. To squeeze and bleed her dry, take every beat of hers away. Then climb up past the lungs Up through the esophagus To spill into the mouth and Rip through the sinus cavity To the…

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Short Story: Eight (Part Two)

If you missed part one, go here. She smiles again. Jaime’s phone starts ringing in his pocket. “It looks like I need to get going.” He thrusts Arra through the door. She hits Binglie with a thud, but the small woman doesn’t move an inch. Arra turns back toward Jaime, but Binglie wraps an arm…

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Short Story: Eight (Part One)

In the mountains of San Bernardino, just behind Resting Grace Cemetery, there’s a building unseen by patrons of the grave and citizens of the curious. It stands hidden behind rows of thick pines and forgotten loved ones. Polk Home for Disadvantaged Children houses the most vile rejects of the Foster Care system, including its caretakers—Bron…

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Poem: Drag Night

The mahogany double doors open and the woman submerges into a cloud of smoke. The fog machine ushers her into the room and into a crowd of cheering people. A large woman, dressed in purple sequence, clad in fish net tights and eyeshadow sprawling from ridge to lid, descends the stairs. The woman at the…

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