Issues
Cecilia once told me she had to choose between poetry and painting, but she no longer believes this and is recovering what was stolen, rejected, lost. You bequeath to your daughter what was left of the flag, and rejecting its unflattering form, she refashions it into a crop top to show off her midriff. She’s on the verge of something, that beautiful precipice.
Their rage so loud she stopped hearing it. Telephone wires ran through her body and tugged her in different directions the way exile does. The way the world falls and the sea begs when love limps. The way numbers climb the wind like death tolls when oppressors are free.
With each impulse, the current your heart siphons from the phone line will slowly render the vision of Self in vibrant color. Your grey tongue will begin to blush, too. When it swells with the metal-sweet taste of saffron, you will know that this vision of Self is real enough to power its own flow.
DJB’s “Altar Call” opens, “Philonia received the scariest phone call she never imagined, she prayed…
[“Not all scars/are permanent,” is the balm of the story Cabrera illustratesover the course of…
This flash piece reminds us of the many ways we’ve all been “washed in loneliness.”…
We loved this story for the way it highlights how memories splinter, leaving us with…
Love and people are complicated, and “I Cannot Explain My Heart” knows this in every…
