Plush

by Chelsea Lowery       after Kim Addonizio   I want a collection of lipsticks. One in every single shade.   Colors that wrap around my lips- and decorate the words they speak.   I want to be able to pick from sweet cherry reds, candy pinks, and nutty browns- so that

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No blank canvas

by Lazarus TR Lavandre Out of the mug’s cracked ceramic lip soft steam billowed through stale air hissing that this promise just given, that you hope to be kept, is forgotten, forfeit among their stressful schedules and slipping thoughts. Again. No chicken coop built,

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Soles

by Joel Hernandez The fact was obvious when I laid eyes on you. I wanted your sense of fashion on my feet,   I could already hear your glistening gum bottoms making music with the gravel,   I could already feel slithering laces grasping your tongue

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Dumpling Recipe

by Jenn Ngeth   Ammonia and lavender fill the air–– a mop in hand, she performed her usual tasks of cleanliness. How can three people accumulate this much dust and dirt? Mars wondered. Scrubbing away at the mahogany floors, she felt a

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Five Minutes

By Kiera Golden Five minutes was an impractical amount of time to wait for two little red lines to appear; especially since Ophelia had much better things to do with her time than sit on the dusty toilet seat, holding a

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Invisible Thief

By Abigail Marshall          after Kelli Russell Agodon, Love Waltz with Fireworks   A few months ago, I was sitting in a cafe with my friend, enjoying a latte and talking about what the future would hold   I was volunteering at bustling soup suppers, serving smiling gray-haired

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The Train

by Vesna Marjanovich before leaving Sarajevo, April 21, 1995 Cold windy night In a lonely station, the rain. I clutch my bag and cry In gray Belgrade. It takes forever when I wait train to take me out of my life. Roundabout of my mistake in the brain underground. That day

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That Unknown Familiar

After Kelli Russell Agadon by Lissa Schacher It’s like hugging a stranger. I know this person is much like me, they too come from a mother’s womb, why must I be scared?   It’s like the sandwich I bite into turns out to be filled with buttercream

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