On:

“Homeless”your sign says,pointed at me,your home five years previously. I swear the floors have never been the same since you left.No matter how hard I scrub the decomp stains cling to the old wood. When I was Katie, you made her your home.You changed her tiling, her lighting, her fixtures.IContinue Reading

On:

we have kept our pantry full of deep kissesstolen maid-butler style hugs meant for spouses.we have kept our shame voices low on the phone,a better picture than the real thing. whispersmake weakness clear. We are cracked full in ourshells. Made for everyday wear-and-tear, uniformscover it well. I am not theContinue Reading

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At fifteen, my first boyfriend and Itook a chance: kissed on a park benchunder cannabis clouds, and thejet exhaust near Kennedy airport. Five minutes into it, and beforeeither of us were ready to commit,our metal braces linked us most intimately as a full moon ascended amidstour raging adolescent hormones.We giggledContinue Reading

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In the morningbefore it rains,nervous blue waterkisses the sandy shore lineuntil a dark storm interruptsthis noisy love affair. Then all is still. The water sleeps–its silver face serene. Lynette G. Esposito, MA Rutgers, has been published in Poetry Quarterly, North of Oxford, Twin Decades, Remembered Arts, Reader’s Digest, US1, andContinue Reading

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The body is in a prolonged period of a dry spell,In the bosom, a tangled web of gold.At the sight of a water-soaked gravestone,The skin seethes with jealousy.Ash of grief, cobwebs of loveIn the bosom, a tangled web of gold. There are many words for grief,And love.Between the toes, sandsContinue Reading

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Introducing Joy Richu, an accomplished illustrator whose artistry thrives on the power of storytelling. With a unique background in Design and Creative Writing, Joy’s work celebrates the profound beauty of the human experience, whether it’s in our remarkable discoveries, boundless imagination, or the creation of meaningful, inclusive communities. Her portfolioContinue Reading

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I am whispering in the room of my heart.Do you hear me? When my skull tingles,When you cook eggs in the morning,When I wake in the night and you’re still asleep but your hand reaches for my thigh anyway?When we kiss in the parking lot and someone whistles and IContinue Reading

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I have sexual amnesia when I try to remember those most intimate moments with Pete. Sex had lured him to me, but my attraction to him was more conscious. A calculated thing. Once, after we had been married about six years, I suggested we consider having other consensual sexual relationshipsContinue Reading

On:

Uneven planks, calloused wood weathered by nor’easterslead over the Atlantic, sand sharks below graze for chumthe bar at the end of the pier is a centerpiece for Budweiser and Hank Williamswhile cloggers shimmy to “Mustang Sally” for the third time of the evening. Those who fish huddle near the benchesContinue Reading