Size / / /

These ink stainsdark as old blood—
well in each curve, fill groove and whorl,
carve stark patterns against my skin.

Words flood from these fresh wounds:
I’ve made them myself, kept scores
in sensitive flesh. Let me ask you,

what choice did I have?

Later, syntax clogged and clotted,
wrecked my clean lines, pulsed
on the page distinct as inkblots.
My Rorschach. Let me ask you,

what choice do you see?

(Bat or butterfly?
Chalice or staff?
The woman in
the wallpaper?)

Sin and salvation.

(In words and in blood
there is both.)




Stacie lives in Mobile, Alabama with her dog. She has a BA in English and will begin a master's in library sciences this fall. This is her first publication.
Current Issue
22 Jul 2024

By: Mónika Rusvai
Translated by: Vivien Urban
Jadwiga is the city. Her body dissolves in the walls, her consciousness seeps into the cracks, her memory merges with the memories of buildings.
Jadwiga a város. Teste felszívódik a falakban, tudata behálózza a repedéseket, emlékezete összekeveredik az épületek emlékezetével.
Aqui jaz a rainha, gigante e imóvel, cada um de seus seis braços caídos e abertos, curvados, tomados de leves espasmos, como se esquecesse de que não estava mais viva.
By: Sourav Roy
Translated by: Carol D'Souza
I said sky/ and with a stainless-steel plate covered/ the rotis going stale 
मैंने कहा आकाश/ और स्टेनलेस स्टील की थाली से ढक दिया/ बासी पड़ रही रोटियों को
By: H. Pueyo
Translated by: H. Pueyo
Here lies the queen, giant and still, each of her six arms sprawled, open, curved, twitching like she forgot she no longer breathed.
Issue 15 Jul 2024
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Issue 24 Jun 2024
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Issue 27 May 2024
Issue 20 May 2024
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