Christ Keivom / In dreams, the dust of the street, / keeps the scent / of your footprints. / I track them & like an animal / follow you / into the mountains. Hoping you’d / appear to me. As God did to Moses.
Kristiana Reed / I admit I do not trust the man in the wedding photographs / now in a kilt / now on a giant bridge leading to the giant’s causeway / but I hope / still hope / he was the one who caught me in heels
Oluwafunmilayo Akinpelu / Susan is life herself. She doesn’t look like it, though. Not with her literally strapped onto the bed, looking on her best days like a ghost-bride in waiting.
Hiram Larew / Lately I’ve been amazed by my father’s memory / As I remember him — / He could recall as brightly as the skin of an apple / how his father was certain but quiet. / He knew by heart the snow on those very steps where / he first spied my mother
Saturn Browne / This was when you / were still a stranger to me, & whether it was a blessing or a curse, I’m / still uncertain.
Saturn Browne / Even though I knew from the start / that you knew what I wanted. All the shadows. The musk of your / hoodie, your arms pressing against mine. It rains so hard even / in June.
Ryan Matera / I did not read the article but I think this wolf is dead because, as I mentioned, it was in the obituary section. As far as the news I can deliver in this rag-of-note, I can say only this, firmly: there was a wolf in Southern California.
Jonathan Chan / i kept your name at the / room of my mouth with each / bite of ssuk souffle. where else / would i be?
June Lin / "you asked me what I’d do if you said no and I laughed, disbelieving, and said I’d live with it. I don’t know what you wanted me to say, whether you hoped I’d drop to my knees for it."