By Jodi Bosin It looks, of course, as though nothing out of the ordinary had ever happened. Dark roast and conversation dance in the particles of space that shared what I had seen. Appropriately incongruous, I first go – of course – to the last place I ever thought I would see, tucked away...

by Anja Breitkreutz The flag is flattering in the wind Voices out there Flying away.   A silent dream Circling the trees Unknown and forgotten Without hope To be caught one day.   A lonely thought Left behind in a world Which will not miss it.   Thick clouds Darkening the...

By Christopher Blackett   “Why can’t you tell me what’s wrong with him?” I asked Sarah as we drove to her father’s house. She didn’t respond.  She stared out the window, watching the stars as they hurdled past us. When we reached a red light, she placed her hand on mine. ...

by Knar Bedian they ask, How do you know? How? You know when your hand touches theirs, when their smile seems as beautiful as the last 3 minutes of a sunset. they ask, How do you feel? How? You feel as if you drank warm tea with milk, but it was stirred just so, so when you drink it, the...

by Anne Carlock   I want to bring home the whole city to you. A souvenir is not enough. I want to be able to fold it all up like paper, like origami or a pop-up book. My careful fingers will smooth every crease, sharpen every folded edge between delicate fingernails. And then I’ll fold...