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 Amy Covel I’ve become accustomed To eating alone Out of little glass jars While I stare out the window And count the stars The heavens know That one lonely soul’s Not a constellation Of a crowded table All alone.
by Betsy Martin One sits reading, his face a meeting ground of several tectonic plates that collide to form his private himalayas. Another sits in the bedroom and sews. She tries to stitch past onto present by making for her daughter a pair of neon-orange- and-brown checked bell-bottoms, this being…
by James Jackson Sweet-suckled Slovenian lips– Cleveland where I found you, Columbus were you lost. Some days a black blanket we would lay under to seek stars seeking something cold & how our temperatures dropped over the years. We’d burn nights matchstick young, whiskey and coke, peel clothes to cool–…