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 Samantha Renn in sincerity she screams blessed mother, where were you when that boy cut me, when that boy tied me to the pain he was inflicting in the fear she cowered and stayed sword’s edge; she’s associated meanings with everything and those bindings are razor wire, but she…