I split the horizon of my body to get to the center— / a sparkly soft bellied fish, small enough / to swim in the color of your eye.
“once / having a / taste / upon the tongue that I was never able to name / I ran a mad dash / for water”
O hands that wound, / no one sung this song to you, / no one rimmed your neck with shame.
will you stain the sky in black smoke / will you tell ghost stories / over the ashes of this empire /
By Diane Kerr
“One part of the fear of being dead is the fear of not being really dead.”
By Ally Ang
“I have opinions / about the instrument of violence / holding my body open, its history / too brutal for metaphor, but I keep them / to myself.”
“down at the shore the waves / are begging to freeze, are locking into each other / and breaking away again, are holding, holding, / and then letting go. i put my fingers in your mouth.”
“Perhaps, we live just in these / Boundless resources hedging / Us to an end no matter where / We’re standing,”