Size / / /

Content warning:


In Israel I was given
the empty skin-suit of a woman with
crooked fingers and a filthy mouth.Nobody explained the clumsy
curve of her spine or the slashes filled with
silica gel on her B-cups and

legs, but though I was curious,
I allowed myself to be adjusted
to her inverted triangle shape

with no questions. I kept them stashed.
The Jerusalem heat peeled off my sweat
and the first pearls dripped down my new back.

This tongue can say son-of-a-whore
with perfect clarity and confidence,
but somehow still doesn’t know Hebrew—

the guttural words always caught
in my strawberry-smooth throat, and I find
I’m quietly hoping that I can

still sing. I could sing beautifully.
I was a Soprano 1, before the
time had come to be a woman, and it would be nice if she was a
Soprano 1 too. At least, if I must
be a woman, if I must adapt

to fit this oversized skin-suit,
please let my throat remember how to sing.
Girl or woman, I don’t have much else.

When it was over and we could
fold Israel into a suitcase with
our olive oil cream and hamsas,

my voice was waiting for me like
how a lover will always remain to
collect the one who had pined for him

in her absence. Girl or woman,
I can sing. With crooked fingers and curved
spine, my throat is still strawberry-smooth.



Cecilia R. is a student at Lesley University, majoring in sociology. Hopefully, she will one day be a juvenile lawyer (who still writes poetry, of course).
Current Issue
24 Jan 2022

Piece of my essence, accept my sorry.
Some people, right? We’ll fold you into sparrows, help you disappear—I’m so glad we found you alive
By: Katy Bond
By: Averi Kurth
Podcast read by: Ciro Faienza
Podcast read by: Katy Bond
In this episode of the Strange Horizons podcast, editor Ciro Faienza presents the poetry of the 24 January issue.
Hope without action behind it is only a recipe for deeper heartache.
I love flash fiction for a lot of reasons. There’s the instant gratification of reading a complete work of fiction in just a few minutes. And there’s the way flash lends itself to playful, inventive experimentation with form, prose, style, voice, and subject. I also love the way a flash story can be honed and sharpened as everything extraneous is eliminated, and the way it can capture and convey the essence of something—an emotion, a world, a situation, a possibility, an idea, even a joke!—in brilliant brevity.
Wednesday: I am the Tiger by John Ajvide Lindqvist, translated by Marlaine Delargy 
Friday: The Tangleroot Palace Stories by Marjorie Liu 
Issue 17 Jan 2022
Issue 10 Jan 2022
Issue 3 Jan 2022
Strange Horizons
By: Antonio Funches
By: Lev Mirov
Podcast read by: Ciro Faienza
Issue 20 Dec 2021
By: Merie Kirby
Podcast read by: Ciro Faienza
Issue 13 Dec 2021
By: Freydís Moon
Podcast read by: Ciro Faienza
Issue 6 Dec 2021
By: C. S. E. Cooney
Podcast read by: Ciro Faienza
Podcast read by: C. S. E. Cooney
Issue 29 Nov 2021
Issue 22 Nov 2021
Issue 15 Nov 2021
By: Madeline Grigg
Podcast read by: Ciro Faienza
Issue 8 Nov 2021
By: Allison Parrish
Podcast read by: Ciro Faienza
Load More
%d bloggers like this: