by Jason Grant The entire king-sized bed is mine now, but I can’t seem to move from the left side to the right because on the nights you were here—laying there—if I dared move from my side to yours in the middle of the night it was like I-was-crossing-some-boundary you-needed…
by Adrienne Monestere She was carvedfrom wooden shaftsof blackwood and pink ivory,mulched and pulpedin collated swank.From bolted margins she’s parted from her shieldrebelling against the jotter, torn to an asphalt schoolyard,mutilated to a ball, beaten and launchedwith their wooden bats, smashed in a recess game.Humiliated, frightened, risingthrough ridicule, she lies wrinkled,rumpled and tramped. She limps towards…