SERIN HWANG
The woods behind my old high school burned down the winter after my senior year.
They were gone within a day, leaving behind only the ash that settled on my car and the smoke that dimmed the sky, turning the sun a blazing orange. I was home from college at the time, abandoning crisp New England autumn for a dull West Coast winter, snowless but mildly chilly, until it wasn’t. California was still burning when I got back on the plane….Continue Reading the way home
Category: Issues
Starchild 11:25
CHELA CUNNINGHAM
i’ve been to the movies six billion times and kept every ticket. i’ve raged and written. lined up all my bodies and carefully selected who i wanted to be that night….Continue Reading Starchild 11:25
The Buyer
EDWYN CHOI
“Incredible,” the buyer answered, still looking up. If the plot of trees were a painting, he resembled a smear on the finished canvas, a sharp, dark smear. The wind was not blowing anymore. He felt a little warmer. …Continue Reading The Buyer
New Eyes

BEA AGBI
the hospital’s radiology and imaging floor / I took a look at my bones
and the x-ray confirmed what I already knew – / that these branches are palms,
this skin bark, no difference between breath / and chlorophyll save the distinctions / of time. When I’m no longer standing / Still waiting for a word from the old gods / When I’ve given up on keeping my lips clenched…Continue Reading New Eyes
Self-Portrait Axed & Open

GABBY AVENA
A child is a fruit, I am told. Time carves / my center: two bodies twine inside / like aphids around bark. Harvested / fruit, your flesh emerges peach-soft & fuzzy, / sweetness suckling upon release. I shudder: / the taste is fear, or relief. A child is a fruit: from which / a new world is born. A child is a fruit: dropped & bruised / & poisoned….Continue Reading Self-Portrait Axed & Open
Ode on a Warm Sea
VENUMI GAMAGE
My fingers trace the smooth blue tile on the wall as we walk in together, catching on jagged line after line of grout. This is how I would map your body, catching on and pausing at every next new tile of you. We swing our balmy limbs onto the benches, like synchronised divers; in this moment we are perfect score, perfect twins. …Continue Reading Ode on a Warm Sea
Forever Green
RIS PAULINO
I scale the cracked shingles, the roof warm beneath my palms, / each grip a reminder that not all heights can be measured in feet. / The sun slips sideways, brushing against the window panes, / and I stand there, taller than the house that never grew with me. / I look off toward the sunset, / and see a treeline—…Continue Reading Forever Green
The Pimple
OLIVIA TENANT
I’m getting ready for another night out, painting my face thick with concealer and foundation, over-powdering my face, and dousing my cheeks in golden glitter and pink blush. I’m using one of those mirrors with the perfect lighting which is supposed to help me apply my makeup perfectly, but it distracts me instead….Continue Reading The Pimple
The Story of Else and Jacob
In the middle of a dense forest lived a young woman named Else and her father. The father, a lumberjack, was finding it harder to chop and replant trees as he aged. …Continue Reading The Story of Else and Jacob
Rotted
MERRICK LAWSON
Drew sits in a forest. There was a time that they were here before, but that is gone and it is impossible for them to recollect it. Recollect — re-collect — collected on their phone; they scroll through their photos until they prove that they were here five months ago, that they wore their flannel-lined jeans that may have been stained, or maybe not.
…Continue Reading Rotted
Stepping
LILA SCHLISSEL
And everybody’s showing a rib-cage to the / rib-watchers, head thrown back/throat exposed so we can see the / ridges do you see me we are asking / don’t you see us…Continue Reading Stepping
the smell of the ocean hit me first.

KYLA BISCOCHO
we were on your balcony, / the waves nearly drowning out our words / and I pulled my sweater tight, dampened by the mist, / as you pointed at the hulking metal structures / which you told me were oil rigs / that lit up the sea for miles / reminding you of Christmas trees / floating at the edge of the horizon….Continue Reading the smell of the ocean hit me first.
Omphalos
LUCHIK BELAU-LORBERG
The flavors, one after another: you, mouthing off in tongues; then breakfast for lunch and vice versa, meaning maple all around; slicked salt beneath my boots; a stretch of teething road with chalkboard clouds; the cashier and her disinterested brows, bad coffee at the cinema beside a lady smiling at a map and her breath is like eucalyptus. The rain goes on, though only…Continue Reading Omphalos
Evergreen: The Voices That Do Not Wilt

SOFIA AHMED SEID
It was a peaceful morn at the foot of the mountains. The sun looked coyly radiant, slowly rising from behind the hill. I must have been sitting on the cement steps because my derriere was going numb from the cold despite the warm embrace of the morning, filled with the chirping of birds and the delicate ringing of tiny bells at the fascia of the church—bells that danced with the gentlest rustling of the wind….Continue Reading Evergreen: The Voices That Do Not Wilt
where we learn to love and hate and cry

SARAH DOWN
You have tainted every sacred space / You– who held me holy in my love and rage / Kissed my balm-blistered palms / And wiped milk from my lips…Continue Reading where we learn to love and hate and cry
who gets away with living forever?
SAM HUANG
imagine this: a murder mystery where everybody knows
who the killer is but me, doomed from the start. everybody has
already identified the guilty party, throwing this party–is this fun
for you?…Continue Reading who gets away with living forever?
The End of the World

SARAH WU
He dreams of a little girl screaming. This is a constant dream. He is holding a needle….Continue Reading The End of the World
Evergreen
CAMILA MASSAKI GNOMES
I wonder if you know the pain of wishing as I do, of longing for the absurd. And it is foolish to ask. Perhaps you understand longing in a way that I never could.
Have I told you of the drive? …Continue Reading Evergreen
Elegy for the Evergreen

WILLOW DELP
Evergreens watch throughout the bitterest winters: unchanging, unsympathetic. The weather strikes down its peers: thick snow weighs down their branches until they sink, limping underneath the pressure, and eventually succumbing to white blankets of frost. …Continue Reading Elegy for the Evergreen
Words Unsaid
EMILY WYKOFF
You are full of empty promises / Lies hidden in kind equivocations / I’m tired of running in circles, chasing my tail / Trying to chase you …Continue Reading Words Unsaid
Dendrochronology of the Clam
CLARA DANHOF
if you take a continent and replace it rock by rock, just one at a time until there’s not a single piece of original material left, is it really the same continent at all?…Continue Reading Dendrochronology of the Clam
DRAG SELF-PORTRAIT ACROSS JUPITER & ALL THAT COMES BACK IS IN NYX EYELINER & THE FEAR OF DYING NOT EVEN GORGEOUS
AIDAN COOPER
In all my experience the boy /
has what it takes to break / away, unfurl the tootsie roll / lollipopped in the cherry
…Continue Reading DRAG SELF-PORTRAIT ACROSS JUPITER & ALL THAT COMES BACK IS IN NYX EYELINER & THE FEAR OF DYING NOT EVEN GORGEOUS
A Collection of Life
GRACE ESCOE
I have never understood the want to / Live forever / Be ever young / To never age / Evergreen…Continue Reading A Collection of Life
Untitled
GABRIELA WEAVER
We hadn’t spoken a word – well, discernable word – for an hour. My fingertips filled the void of silence, grazing your skin, circling your collarbones. I rested in the crook of your neck, forehead pressed to your cheek. My eyes followed the lines I drew on your skin. I lifted my chin to trail kisses up your neck before meeting your gaze with my own. …Continue Reading Untitled
Green Apple Walls
HADLEY HUNT
the painted lavender walls watched me since birth.
the floral printed sheets bathed me since my chubby toes
first touched the ground. the smells of all things fresh and innocent,
doors always open,
windows tipped upwards,
sweet experiments concocted in the kitchen down the hall….Continue Reading Green Apple Walls
Snapshots of Dust
BRADY KIM
I visited my father’s house last week. I straightened the picture frames on his nightstand, the glass caked with so much grime and filth that you couldn’t even make out the picture. I swept the dust from the lonely halls, the wallpaper cracking and peeling at the top so it cast a shadow across the wall when you turned on the buzzing yellowish lights….Continue Reading Snapshots of Dust
From the Porch
GEORGE HENRY
From Aunt Zell’s porch, I see myself etched into clumps of baked coral that have clambered out of the sea & up this hill
where they pretend to be rocks but only fool themselves…Continue Reading From the Porch
Haircut
SARAH GOLDSCHMIDT-HOPKINSON
You look different. This time your hair is [red / pink / blonde] and I love it. You are [as beautiful as the last time I saw you / as beautiful as the last time I saw you / as beautiful as the last time I saw you].
…Continue Reading Haircut
I need you

ZOE ALARCON
you’re born into the ripe age of freedom
jaded children rowdy roar, hungry stuffed on chicken patties
girls can be whatever they want to be!
…Continue Reading I need you
Winter

DARBY REDMAN
I am surrounded by clumps of trees, barren and apathetic. We walked this path when we were young, the sun spotting through trees and bees bumbling along the flowers….Continue Reading Winter