maybe death isn’t deep and wet and cloying like / a well maybe death is /a shallowing a / drying up / think of the pond that forms / in the valleyfrom snowmelt in the spring think of how / it shrinks with each hot /summer day by august / it’s gone maybe our lives […]
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tell me it was gentle, like when my mother brushedthe hair from my forehead and said, if God wanted you to fly, He would have calledyou Icarus and with her feverish fingertips running through my roots I asked, do you want to be Daedalus? [name added to “when I transition” list: Icarus] — I wanted to give […]
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This is what is most familiar: Lemon-sucked lips kept still on skin.Fingers, long and knuckled, sweeping across a scar fainter than summer.The back and forth motion of keeping ourselves whole. How your smile,all honeyed and good, makes a hymn from its own ridges. You like to pick atyour palms like insects suck at bone. Your […]
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Weronika Marianna is a Polish artist and designer based in Amsterdam. Her paintings and animations of abstract female figures in pastel colors have attracted clients such as Netflix or Elle Magazine, and she has co-created Szajn, an online space promoting art by women. Weronika discussed her work, her inspirations, and the importance of change with […]
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One sends you a flower when your grandmother dies. A single yellow rose. For companionship. Red is for passion which wouldn’t have been appropriate. One invites you into her dorm room to eat cereal when you think you are bisexual. You imagine kissing her, small-town lips in this big city night. One wears a dress […]
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what did you think would happen? did you imagine my arrest as a movie? cheering spectators? cuffs conveniently jangled? hands blooming victory-sign?instead, i’ve just got all this hard-won anger. before you gave my name to the cops, did you flashback on our white-lie crimes? our teenaged beach-streak? smirkingbehind salt-rimmed drinks in whichever bar was too […]
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