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 Don Mager Fourteen days away on business else- where, sunset is back at work pouring spot-lit white across all the backside windows of each hill slope house. Inside, floors and walls are puddled. The puddles shift and shrink. Outside, the saturated trees blaze in Boric Acid shimmers and green flames. Sun’s…
by Kayla Miller “Don’t remember me,” I said to each of them, “I surely won’t remember you.” But I lied. My life as a tumbleweed left no space, even in a deserted place, for people like them. They flowed together like waterfalls but their vessels never strayed from a permanent…