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come, nurture this sacred garden
plant one thousand seeds—and
pour a soul into this earthen mould
let my wholeness be a forest
washed with depth and darkness
from the shady boughs that grow
between my arms and hands

let this head take root
with tendrils,
that reach into the earth
tend this sacred garden
see fruiting bodies sprout from breasts
my fingers green and sap-blooded leaves
upon which insects feast

reach down through clay and rot
feel life push against your skin
amongst the fallen bodies of old dead things
in whose peaty graves i grow
tend this sacred garden
where gods have walked and
where the sun will rise again

lie down amongst me, skin to earth and plant
where bones once paled in the sun
they will crumble back to soil
when this is done
when this garden has finally grown
i will tangle you in vines and tend our garden
as you have done for me




Melody is a rainbow-haired thing and alleged postgraduate student from Adelaide, Australia. When they aren't sharing selfies on twitter (@magicspacegirl), they spend far too much time thinking about role-playing games and coffee. Melody has previously been published in Liminality.
Current Issue
19 May 2025

I could live or survive off of bunny breath alone, eating little clouds of fog.
Exceptional measures are required.
By: Elle Engel
Podcast read by: Emmie Christie
In this episode of the Strange Horizons Fiction podcast, Michael Ireland presents Elle Engel's Half Sick of Shadows read by Emmie Christie Subscribe to the Strange Horizons podcast: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Spotify⁠⁠
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