issue01: LOVE
January 2019 - I was about to meet the greatest love I’ve ever felt in my young life.
It was cold (even in Barcelona, Spain) and I bought a coat - Tim entered my heart as well.
Some days I even lay in bed & am convinced deep down he is the cowboy I always write about. … read more
february 29, 2024
by Bonnie Orbison
It was another blow out fight, the third one this week. You always take things too personally. You’re too sensitive. Why don’t you lighten up.
Samantha stormed out of the house and hopped in her car, driving in the pouring rain towards the one man she knows understands her. Her mind is half on the flooded streets, half on Ivan, who she’d come to rely on in times … read more
march 1, 2024
by Julian Gallo
You made me a lover and a liar
Infatuated at the mere thought of you
When the thought of your pictures, hazy and blurred, mean more than the moon,
Desperate for something more,
Even though the moon will last forever,
march 3, 2024
by Ani
From whence the knocks of Dian’s bow do spring,
Or dance as tuned from ’Pollo’s lyre inspired,
Mellifluous, diaphanous offspring—
march 5, 2024
by b. h. fein
In the night, in my dream
I was searching my love
with all my means and skills
I was searching and recalling
some lovely moments I’d passed
with her in the first spring
march 7, 2024
by O.P. Jha
I see
The way he looks at her
Like she’s the brightest star in the sky
No
The only star
I hear
march 9, 2024
by Olivia
He will come find me when I've caught the wrong bus on a Minnesotan January night.
He will whistle like a Disney sparrow.
He can impersonate Kermit the frog, but everyone else is laced with McCartney.
He can teach the dog to rest its head on your palm— hold out your hand, say face.
march 11, 2024
by Kait Quinn
the words I want to say to him
I feel them bubbling up
making their way from my brain
and my heart
up my throat
and in my mouth
march 13, 2024
by Natalie Bycraft
At night on the highway, when I pick you up from your apartment, we fall, once again, into the rhythm of our togetherness. Lingering glances, touches that carry intention beyond simple contact, grins that struggle against containment – this is the series of symptoms we brave upon entering each other’s atmosphere; as inevitable and expected as shivering is upon entering a snowy wood. I look back
march 23, 2024
by Allyson Roche
This artwork pays homage to my dearly beloved feline friends—Barda, Toothless, Pawie, and Klee—alongside the crafty neighborhood cats who shamelessly snatch my cats' meals, resulting in a slightly lighter family wallet (not that my mom and I are complaining, and not that my cats are complaining either because they aren't … read more
march 24, 2024
by Erika Lynet Salvador
Once driving to dinner I saw a hazed-out low sun and mistook the solar system
Another time I chased the moon across a bridge, gaping awe, and made it to my destination
march 25, 2024
by Cate Root
At night on the highway, when I pick you up from your apartment, we fall, once again, into the rhythm of our togetherness. Lingering glances, touches that carry intention beyond simple contact, grins that struggle against containment – this is the series of symptoms we brave upon entering each other’s atmosphere; as inevitable and expected as shivering is upon entering a snowy wood. I look back
march 26, 2024
by Kelsey Taylor
white shoulders,
collar bones made of stardust… read more
march 27, 2024
by A.J. Parker
First Course
-Shared jokes amuse-bouche
-Sex
-A goodbye kiss brined in suspense
Second Course
-Meeting his friends
march 28, 2024
by Tonya Riley
I have gotten used to invisible hands.
They held my gaze, whispered to me.
Like a phantom lover, they mesmerized me.
It has only been a short time since they touched me,
And yet I am certain I can feel them now.
march 29, 2024
by Claudia Wysocky
I want to be alive to be with you. I’ll stay so we can prepare tea together. You wash the dented pot. I set the kettle to sing. We stare at the herbs and petals waiting to be submerged. You pour the hot water, bringing them to life. You … read more
march 30, 2024
by Nicole Livingston Crain
There's no one I’d rather grieve with. The absence of mothers, sisters, boys we call our brothers. Postmen. The deli workers who remember your orders. I'll be with you without our neighbors, prisoners, civil war reenactors. Substitute … read more
march 31, 2024