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 Barb Ariel Cohen The uncomfortable world waiting Beneath my breastbone, held Like stale breath, while the truth is this: A world blooms dancing at my every glance The old captivities die hard Resist yielding, lace themselves into My tight-fisted hands with cloying insistence Hoard tears behind my eyes…