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 Jesse Breite What could be more radiant, more terrifying than the faces of my friends congregated for me from their odd places, soulful little red dots speckling the globe? Each one yearning more than a torch ablaze in the black cold of December,…
by Jesse Breite God’s broken teeth spit out and tumbled from the bald peak, gurgled from earth’s hot belly. Pinnacle Mountain is the only peak I’ll always climb in silence. The congregation of lizards waits and listens to the shifting stems, the heart’s blossom,…
by Jesse Breite If the fruit tells us anything, it is that we yearn, that the stillness is furious, that the fury is a sacred fire, that fire is a way of breathing, that lungs feed the open wound, but also that color…