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“i planted the seed in my breast
and in its yearning to sprout
an unbearable pain took root
in my pain, i rejected everything, your love, and compassion even,

i devoured it all, not knowing, not wanting to see the bud
growing in my heart and when it had grown enough, blinded
by its red, that i thought boredom,
depression, anger, i cut it out meself,
and instead of trampling the rose like i expected, ya plucked it out
of the mud it had fallen into, and ya replaced it in my lap,

when i was in this wheelchair for the nth time of the year

“don’t look at me in the eyes,”
ya always told me, “it burns,”
ya once continued...

this time though, i did and i
saw the pain being reflected
back at me, as in a mirror,
none the wiser, i thought it only mine

it was only when i noticed the rose, just about to crumble,
on yer back, that i started to understand that ya were pained too”

“we both came a long way since then, didn’t we?
one of respect and understanding...”

“—curiosity too!”

“hey, do ya remember?

the first time we met, we were both having check-ups done,
me for my monthly routine of my fucked up body
ya for yer HRT blood tests and fucked tonus,
each thought the other the belle, not believing
the luck we had to cross paths as we did, well after”

“born or turned a monster,
it doesn’t matter
we’ll still have each other’s back
and love for one another
after all,

I’m Charybde and ya’re Scylla,”
“beast and belle all at once, we both are”
“beauty is the beast, right?”

Milouchkna weaves words, sometimes. She adores sweet stuff, pu-erh, and sequential art. She aspires to restore all things paper, and wants to start drawing. This peculiar disabled trans aro lesbiche bookworm disaster lives with her pets somewhere in France, near a valley of castles, and can be found on twitter @milouchkna and on tumblr at
Current Issue
6 Feb 2023

Beatriz Nogueira is fifteen years old when her life ends.
how humble it becomes after beliefs on it / burn up
Your quivering, alien shift from human to halfling to not-quite,   a carrion flower never in bloom, but burst.
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By: RiverFlow
Translated by: Emily Jin
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