Issues
When she looked down at her husband the downpour had become a drizzle. Oltana didn’t…
I aim for bed, the bar is on the wayAnd you. I know that bright…
I was christened a lesbian when I was ten years old. My two best friends…
We are thrilled to share our Spring 2024 issue, Bending, curated by Angie Cruz with drawings by Laylah Ali and writing by Victoria Chang, Caro De Robertis, Julian Delgado Lopera, Jaquira Díaz, Patricia Engel, Courtney Faye Taylor, Nimmi Gowrinathan, Diana Khoi Nguyen, Chinelo Okparanta, Shana L. Redmond, Lilliam Rivera, and Alejandro Varela.
Sometimes I think I should call my mother less often because she’s going to die. She’s neither well nor unwell, but statistically speaking, I’m not wrong to worry.
Most people knew her for her iconic arroz con pollo, the raspy voice, the baggies of crystal, her cig dangling from mouth, chopping plátano, setting down paper-plates on the plastic table in her living room for the hungry travestis to eat.
Sometimes, my words come at the same time as seeing. The idea that one is not interior to the other.
“Why don’t you show me what you can do?” the boy asked the girl.
Kajol lines swept under an angled eye in a singular motion: inherited muscle memory. Deep inhales stop working for childbirth and fear. Pain sneaks in.
Can it be feminist, she wondered as she spread her thighs, to want this? Can I still be on the side of liberation?