by Adeline Macdonald Clean steam iron the linen sheets, white and crisp and beautiful and without fault or fold White walls upon white walls with nothing to upset you or hurt you or make you cry or want to leave or want to think Do you love it? Is it…
by Afieya Kipp I loved that night: the sky a cosmic ice cream sandwich—Jula, with her skin like stretched vegetable tanned leather, putting her gypsy bells to work outside my crescent window. A chandelier of cow hearts, goat tongues and bikini waxed bunnies for sale, for sale! Usually, the sign of…