Issue 21

We planted a beating heart beneath the floorboards to remind us of what it sounds like to be human. For the days when I take aim at your soul for making a mistake. For the days when you do the same. We are hypocrisies. I’ll ask forgiveness for the same sin I chastise you for. […]

there is a bruise on my ass shaped like a gun. I cover it with my palm and find that it is hand-sized. I take a picture of it and send it to my two best friends. I text my mom and say, “it’s a metaphor.” I stare and stare. I put my hand against […]

a lone heron watches as the wind allows the trees to touch their long lost lovers. it’s a spring-sunny day made for Harbord Street. cream clouds wispy with winter’s dying breath against a morning-coloured sky. the cool autumn air under the first-quarter moon breathed into my lungs like untouchable water, reminding my skin of the […]

it’s just a split lip December a bull’s eye of a birth month all wide eyed and waning turning twenty-one felt nothing like shedding skin and everything like the crack of a honey comb I fell in love with a boy and choked on the full moon and tumbled all the way through the rush […]

the chicken fries i’m eating don’t taste like 2005. they’re seasoned differently, and i don’t know how to breathe when the pupils of your iris-eyes meet the rubber of my boots and tell me “bye” and i realize that i think i love you. i keep the streets in the back pockets of my jeans […]