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Maya Marshall

Everyday

By Maya Marshall Today’s nothing fancy: my mother lives,
a simple pleasure. My cat made biscuits
on my knee. A woman I desire,
giggled with me, invited me to touch
a whale. I fell for a man I barely know,
his delicious disdain, his persistent smile,
flaking skin and mane.
Sunu P. Chandy

Impulse Buys

By Sunu P. Chandy At the shiny stones and rocks booth, I am unusually patient. I even consider spending a few dollars on a few pebbles. She seemed to sense that, without me saying a word, and I could feel her heart smile.

And then in one instant, everything changed. Looking toward the cashier, she saw, just hanging out there on the wall, real guns in real life.

Karla Cordero

A Conversation With Siri About Death

By Karla Cordero i watch slasher movies but hate the sight of real blood leave the body

i panic on planes & think of ways the machine or sky

will betray me i read books in fear to evaporate

out of this world without seeing its soft hands
Aurielle Marie

gxrl gospel ii: when thrown against a sharp white background

By Aurielle Marie I always   feel  Black, y’ know? | I close my eyes at night & the tar behind them lids | ain’t nearly as dark as me | I wake to a thousand white daggers
Tiana Nobile

Yuri

By Tiana Nobile When you held him, how heavy was his head cradled in your lap? How long did you carry that
weight in your thighs?
adrienne maree brown

spell for reclaiming the moment

By adrienne maree brown even now
we could be happy

even now

breathing in
filling our bodies with right now
Rio Cortez

Partum

By Rio Cortez Just as close to living as you are to disappearing knowing
my limits you locate the tender spots without.
Caridad Moro-Gronlier

Abuela Warns Me a Caravan Of “Esa Gente” Is Headed Our Way

By Caridad Moro-Gronlier if i should
take you
to that spot
by the water
you can’t pronounce
but love
Siaara Freeman

The Such Thing As the Ridiculous Question –

By Siaara Freeman When I say ancestors, let’s be clear:
I mean slaves. I’m talkin’ Tennessee
cotton & Louisiana suga. I mean grave dirt.
Cintia Santana

For My Cousin Manny Who Died in Prison

By Cintia Santana inside
a cell
a heart

(my cousin’s)

inside
his heart
(inside
a cell)
a cluster
of cells

arrested
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