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CONTENT WARNING:


Cradle the seed in your hands.
Cup the spark. Oh old gods please
do not let this brightness gutter.
Let me constellate filled with
brilliance insangelous let me be
stars let me be the last fading heat
of sinking sunset gilt and honeyed.
Let me luminate let me soften
and melt like glowing wax
let me linger in warm embrace
of soft-lipped women let me live
diaphanous. Let the wind fill me
let me rise inexorable let me burn
without burning out eternity
ephemeral. Let me blossom
and billow like feathered cotton
over fields of sunflower yellow
jewelled birds in calypsonian half-heard
melody. Let me sink saltwater
gentleness inevitable in stygian tides
let me form shadows in fog let me
tinge melancholy in the curl
of your mouth. Let me flourish
seed of pomegranate gleaming seed
blush of rosy dawn tranquillity
hush of echo resonating primordial
thief of fire. Let me grow into myself.
Let me deepen. Let my soul brew sweet
fermentation beneath dappled almond
and cherry and laurel and brambling
tangled aconite and stinging nettle.
Oh old gods if ever you had hearts
let my heart beat and continue beating
let me ripen before I wither please—
Let me live before I die.



Robin M. Eames is a disabled & dying queercrip writer/artist/activist living in Sydney, Australia. Their work appears or is upcoming in GlitterShip, Luna Station Quarterly, Glitterwolf, ARNA, Hermes, and the anthology Broken Worlds.
Current Issue
30 Mar 2020

The Strange Horizons team presents new speculations with climate at its heart.
The Wi-Fi is shallow, a miracle drizzle that broke the heat wave blockade. They say in 10 years the internet will never flow here again.
In this episode of the Strange Horizons podcast, editor Anaea Lay presents Porpentine Charity Heartscape's “Dirty Wi-Fi.”
If half my kindergarten cohort was dead by the time I hit sixth grade, I would be mopey too.
By: Jason P Burnham
Podcast read by: Anaea Lay
In this episode of the Strange Horizons podcast, editor Anaea Lay presents Jason P Burnham's “Cairns.”
“I’m Rosie,” she says. But I just call her the kid.
By: Tara Calaby
Podcast read by: Anaea Lay
In this episode of the Strange Horizons podcast, editor Anaea Lay presents Tara Calaby's “Three Days with the Kid.”
Fixing my pipes, for the plumber, / is a simple thing. He whistles gently as I tell him / about the yellow eyes I saw last night.
Between us, there are threads of doubt, unwinding spools like spider webs across the scalded earth
what the map said was once a buffalo jump
By: Kaily Dorfman
By: Camille Louise Goering
By: Brian Beatty
Podcast read by: Ciro Faienza
Podcast read by: Kaily Dorfman
Podcast read by: Brian Beatty
In this episode of the Strange Horizons podcast, editor Ciro Faienza presents poetry from the Climate special issue.
Solarpunk reminded me that growing your own food is a thing, that we can make or grow something rather than buy it, that technology can help us redirect the trajectory of the world.
Thursday: Bridge 108 by Anne Charnock 
Friday: Glass and Gardens: Solarpunk Winters edited by Sarena Ulibarri 
Issue 23 Mar 2020
Issue 16 Mar 2020
By: Lisa Nan Joo
Podcast read by: Anaea Lay
By: Jenny Thompson
Podcast read by: Ciro Faienza
100 African Writers of SFF - Part Fifteen: Ghana
Issue 9 Mar 2020
By: Leah Bobet
Podcast read by: Anaea Lay
By: Emily Smith
Podcast read by: Ciro Faienza
Issue 2 Mar 2020
By: Innocent Chizaram Ilo
Podcast read by: Anaea Lay
By: Cam Kelley
Podcast read by: Ciro Faienza
By: Dante Luiz
Art by: DAPENHA
Issue 24 Feb 2020
By: Mayra Paris
Podcast read by: Ciro Faienza
Issue 17 Feb 2020
By: Priya Sridhar
Podcast read by: Anaea Lay
By: E. F. Schraeder
Podcast read by: Ciro Faienza
Issue 10 Feb 2020
By: Shannon Sanders
Podcast read by: Anaea Lay
Issue 3 Feb 2020
By: Ada Hoffmann
Podcast read by: Anaea Lay
By: S.R. Tombran
Podcast read by: Ciro Faienza
Issue 27 Jan 2020
By: Weston Richey
Podcast read by: Ciro Faienza
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