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I left you months before you left this
planet, on a winter night I promised
we'd spend together. My overnight bag
beside me, we walked together through
blind-white flurries, words lost in boreal
winds. But I cracked like rotten wood at
the doorstep, turning away to abandon you
to cavernous rooms and a hearth for one.
Heart hollow, unable to grasp my mist-like
fears, I locked my steps, never pivoted back.
The film-thin snow tore like skin, one set
of bootprints back where two had come.

You’re more poet than I'll ever be, in
text and tongue, with flame and glass,
those razor-sharp moments you catch—
all the times I blink and miss—sliced
off like corneas, pressed between pages
like slides to hold them transparent to the
world. I miss that warmth I don't deserve,
flowing from within you and glowing
now under real sunlight, not this bloated,
dying red orb that hangs above these
stone crypts we call flats.

Even now, I wonder how you remember me,
which moments of ours you've clasped like
dandelion seeds plucked from the breeze.

Do you remember how I fell away
instead of rising up to meet you, or
do you remember how I held your
hand when we shared our dreams of ghosts?

Current Issue
16 May 2022

we are whispered into this new land, this old land, whispered anew
i tuck myselves under coffin nails. and then i am the sun like a nairobi fly, burning spine and skin.
The last deer in heaven flees, and Sestu pursues.
Issue 9 May 2022
Podcast: 9 May Poetry 
Issue 2 May 2022
By: Eric Wang
By: Sara S. Messenger
Podcast read by: Ciro Faienza
Podcast read by: Sara S. Messenger
Issue 18 Apr 2022
By: Blaize Kelly Strothers
By: Ken Haponek
Podcast read by: Blaize Kelly Strothers
Podcast read by: Ken Haponek
Podcast read by: Ciro Faienza
Issue 11 Apr 2022
Issue 4 Apr 2022
Issue 28 Mar 2022
Issue 21 Mar 2022
By: Devin Miller
Art by: Alex Pernau
Podcast read by: Courtney Floyd
Issue 14 Mar 2022
Strange Horizons
Issue 7 Mar 2022
Strange Horizons
28 Feb 2022
We would like stories that are joyous, horrific, hopeful, despondent, powerful and subtle. Write something that will take our breath away, make us yell and cry. Write unapologetically in your local patois and basilects in space; make references to local events and memes to your heart’s content. Write something that makes you laugh and cry. Indulge in all the hallmarks of your heritage that you find yourself yearning for in speculative literature, but know that we will not judge you based on your authenticity as a Southeast Asian. 
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