Tag: '27

Devour

BRIANNA ZHANG
It is baffling that these people garner millions of likes, considering how they spend twenty four hours like it’s nothing! Sleeping through a third of the day—unbelievable. Ten minutes of meditation? It took me one hour to complete university……Continue Reading Devour

konbini 

By MIKIKO SUGA
Every summer is a tradition of disappearing. There are times to be corporeal, and other times to dematerialize. It may simply be a matter of traversing impermanent boundaries, where one simply consumes what is in front of them. There is no need to contemplate too deeply, because something is always at risk of breaking if I do. …Continue Reading konbini 

mandarin

ELLA LIN
and she peels me / another mandarin. i imagine / we must look strange, / our mouths dripping juice like broken faucets / into the night. her black hair / falling further, with nothing below. the broken mirror hanging / above wet paint on bathroom walls….Continue Reading mandarin

Lunch-Box Note

OLIVIA TENNANT
Good cooking requires time and patience – neither of which my mother has. Born and raised by Chinese parents in New York, aggression, assertiveness, hostility, hard work, and short-temperedness are inherent personality traits built into her blood. My mother stops for nothing in order to achieve success. Except for in the kitchen. …Continue Reading Lunch-Box Note

Orange Me Open

ELSA LYONS
Does the orange want to be peeled? Tenderly / I push my fingernail through her stubborn rind, // reveal the bulge of her white-veined flesh. / She’s almost throbbing with juices. They’re almost // circulating through her. It’s almost music….Continue Reading Orange Me Open

CARMEX 

SARAH DOWN
slick slippery sticky  / I try I try I try  / to wash this nauseating nostalgia off. / my nineteen-year-old knuckles  / gently bruised – busted yellow  / by my fifteen years of fingers  / searching blindly under the couch for my nine year old self …Continue Reading CARMEX 

Untitled 

MARIAM BESHIDZE
When does a body become a thing? / When it stares from beyond the glass  / At the conglomeration of people surrounding it, / Shedding tears on a Persian carpet. / When it cannot smell the patchwork / of dead flowers laying on top of it. …Continue Reading Untitled