poems: Aricka Foreman

hindsight the potted lily was a horrible gift but you should have seen your face, excited you had found a keepsake, something to root my name, keep the delicate coo when we made love, living. it was easy in the beginning, to coddle each bud, swell with each drop that found its way to the top through the...

poems: Ocean Vuong

Tenement (nocturne) Before a darkening window, two figures merge into one. The room begins to tremble. Shadows shake loose their masters. Twilight arrives in sheets of silk melting onto wet skin. In the next apartment, the landlord, his trousers tangled at the ankles, presses an ear to the wall, listening...