Size / / /

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
22 Apr 2024

We’d been on holiday at the Shoon Sea only three days when the incident occurred. Dr. Gar had been staying there a few months for medical research and had urged me and my friend Shooshooey to visit.
...
Tu enfiles longuement la chemise des murs,/ tout comme d’autres le font avec la chemise de la mort.
The little monster was not born like a human child, yelling with cold and terror as he left his mother’s womb. He had come to life little by little, on the high, three-legged bench. When his eyes had opened, they met the eyes of the broad-shouldered sculptor, watching them tenderly.
Le petit monstre n’était pas né comme un enfant des hommes, criant de froid et de terreur au sortir du ventre maternel. Il avait pris vie peu à peu, sur la haute selle à trois pieds, et quand ses yeux s’étaient ouverts, ils avaient rencontré ceux du sculpteur aux larges épaules, qui le regardaient tendrement.
We're delighted to welcome Nat Paterson to the blog, to tell us more about his translation of Léopold Chauveau's story 'The Little Monster'/ 'Le Petit Monstre', which appears in our April 2024 issue.
For a long time now you’ve put on the shirt of the walls,/just as others might put on a shroud.
Issue 15 Apr 2024
By: Ana Hurtado
Art by: delila
Issue 8 Apr 2024
Issue 1 Apr 2024
Issue 25 Mar 2024
By: Sammy Lê
Art by: Kim Hu
Issue 18 Mar 2024
Strange Horizons
Issue 11 Mar 2024
Issue 4 Mar 2024
Issue 26 Feb 2024
Issue 19 Feb 2024
Issue 12 Feb 2024
Load More
%d bloggers like this: