By SARAH WU, MEL ARTHUR, and GABBY AVENA Mel Arthur:I advocated for this theme within small circles of conversation partly because I know what it is like to feel reverence so profoundly, it becomes part of everyday existence. In reverence lies the essence of awe, of wonder, and as the dictionary adds, of respect. But…Continue Reading Spring 2023
KAREN LEE
Crinkled sheets and cascaded shadows / Oh sinful sun, I gobbled it whole / Rolled around my mouth, underneath my tongue / Silken days were no longer / Underneath starlit skies because back then…Continue Reading Salted
WILLOW DELP
The dictionary is wrong. The dictionary is written by parents and upright magistrates and kings all ill-acquainted with true reverence, the reverence that makes you sob and beg and wail and grove…Continue Reading Island of Reverence
MACKENZIE DUNSON
A row of homes. Perfect homes, like they were pasted from the pages of a catalog. Sprawling white picket fences ran over the hills, connecting the houses in a puzzle, endlessly together…Continue Reading The Perfect Man
By TAPTI SEN Kneel. A light touch on your temple. Rise. Kneel: Touch your head to their feet. Your knees sting against the cold marble. Your fingers brush their toes. Seconds pass. Hours pass. You hold your breath, trying not to look at curled up toenails, worn with age. Laughter up above you. Shoulders tremble….Continue Reading প্রণাম (Blessings)
SONIA CHAJET WIDES
waving forests carpet tree branches / trunks, Dragon scales and hair sprouting / sometimes so dense that the bark is made invisible / the tree / becomes a tower gorgeous / fractal ferns…Continue Reading Resurrection Ferns
DAVIS RENNELLA
To remember is to live again. It takes a collaboration of our powers of feeling– living in the raw sensory and emotional records imprinted on our bodies, combining them with awareness…Continue Reading Sketches of the Past
SEBASTIAN PAREDES
He drinks coffee. He embraces the bitter liquid. He does not care that it burns the roof of his mouth. He does not care that he can see his hands trembling. He does not care that he can feel his body shaking….Continue Reading Addiction
PHO VU
For those who are brought up in Asian households, “reverence” is like “respect” but with a higher level of intensity. In case you are Asian but do not see the word that way, my statement merely stems…Continue Reading Faith, Fear, and Finding My Path
PAULINE BISSELL
Look: / I once believed my blood ran blue in my body, just because my veins told me so. We keep telling ourselves little lies. We’re not supposed to believe them, but I do….Continue Reading Illusioned
JACKELINE FERNANDES
I experienced the soft colliding of bodies as more of a pleasure and less of an annoyance. In the crowded gallery, I immediately made out the sound of the bass, the piano, the drums…Continue Reading Observations at the Gallery
NICOLE ITKIN
not echoes, maybe / not even ghosts / still, they stand in
for // everything (everything) / I need most. // A girl in red curls over a bridge, / Dress trailing longer, lower- // who’s falling?…Continue Reading Stand to See
MEL ARTHUR
…the researcher nibbles at [murmurs] and learns what it means for hands to enfold in one, too, tree steps. Tensions that are touched upon include affliction…Continue Reading Awakening of Reverence
MAX PASAKORN
and nothing comes out. I didn’t know / what I was expecting— //
babies, perhaps? Ones with wings / too small to lift them back up, / cursed little things / with no-return policies….Continue Reading I tear open the sky
RUTH ZURAW
how lovely to be alone / to trace a winding route in / piercing white. // how lovely to crave / to yearn for wood paneling and grimy tile / that failed to grace your bulbous eyes. // how lovely to creep and crawl…Continue Reading lone goose
M. LAWSON
The assembly line continued: the other angels carded the wool, dip-dyed it pink in the great tin pot on their table, and fed it into the spinning wheel, which they wound on a cone that F— knit…Continue Reading Palm
CAELEN MCQUILKIN
This past January, I spent a lot of time reading children’s books — Pete the Cat, The Very Hungry Caterpillar, Goosebumps, Blueberries for Sal. Turning through their brightly illustrated pages of blueberry bushes, ghosts and monsters, and the hungry caterpillar’s array of food, I remembered doing the same thing as a child…Continue Reading Remembering infinity (maybe)
KAELA LIU
We crossed the corner into an unfamiliar cul-de-sac. I had long since lost track of where we were walking, preferring instead to mindlessly track the rhythm of my pace with respect to my brother’s…Continue Reading A Secret Door
ZOE ALARCON
at this time is relinquishing i / fall up my throat and pray, / to non-thoughts of non-time, / to hardly grasp // i Blaze and remember i’m / Free to remember / Free to press myself against the fire of action…Continue Reading Joy
JIHYUN PAIK
this language this tongue / the habits the manners the attitude / learned // from one to one’s own to one’s own / a legacy a heritage a birthright / inherited // by strike of word by grace within…Continue Reading Transcription of a Virtue Inscribed
AIDAN COOPER
i squirrel away my hurts into peanut shells that i hide at the root of my knurled spine, / all my snot-bubbles, all my stubbed toes, / all the times i let my teeth ferment in my spit without brushing before bed…Continue Reading Improv Tragedy and Laughs Afterthefact
SARAH WU
You scream the first time you fly. This is only okay if you practice in your own room. You start from the top of your dresser and jump. That way, only the walls stare at you as you bloody your knee…Continue Reading How to Teach Your Younger Brother How to Fly
GRACIE ROWLAND
I feel cleaner, my fears farther away, after staring at the stars in their great cosmos. / They allow me to find beauty, allow me half a moment to forget my sorrows…Continue Reading Starry Night
AWA DIOP
My makeup bag is full of shades of brown. Before me lay my brushes sprawled out and richly coated with this palette: my foundations of ebony, expresso, deep mahogany. My concealers of mocha, chestnut…Continue Reading girlhood: BLK edition
GABY WEAVER
His home sits on the edge of a cliffside. It had once sat a few feet further from it, but the sandstone has eroded in his lifetime. He rests on a rocking chair, the ocean view unobstructed in front of him…Continue Reading The Water’s Not Waiting
GABBY AVENA
the tree kneels / at the pond the tree / kneels to touch the / pond touch neither the / tree nor the pond / which the tree wants / touching your fingers / which cannot touch…Continue Reading stuplimity
FAHIM ZAMAN
I met him the night before / In that signature diner / Where all the cars go to die / Where green stars hide inside / With the man who wears the suit. // Who has milk and cookies, and waits till / The Beatles plays on the radio …Continue Reading Orphic Overture LXXXI
EMILY WYKOFF
I’ve loved and lost and respected you / Things I never thought I’d say / I never wanted to love you / Nonetheless, the adoration found a way // They say that love is a choice / But, for you, it felt like falling…Continue Reading Veneration
ELEANOR WALSH
And when I hear false my tongue twists G-o-d / But in street lights I see / The moons all around me / Foxes follow me home to you / I pull the Priestess / Your lips are red / The ring I lost months ago…Continue Reading Hymn
GRACE ESCOE
I draw a line / My finger digs deep into the sand taking out a nice long straight line / That isn’t really my own even though I made it / The line that I cannot cross / The line that keeps me from making…Continue Reading Drawing lines in the sand