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 Kayla M. Miller Although wicked is, may never wicked stay. Although the damp dark steals away light’s gradient— Like a protruding sack of liquid birth— It tears through onward to the North glamoured night. Prophets rain down and swoon over life. Mist eyes and detach ears, For those that know…