My City By: Elliot Martin
Illustrated By: Amina Coleman-Davis The concrete jungle speaks. I hear its voice “Give me liberty or give me death!” It echoes. God speaks in this city. The city will not
Category: poetry
HUNGRY GIRLS By: Nadia Leiby
We are the hungry girls. Greasy hair and soft lips, we pore over our vices like rats in a dumpster tones no longer hushed as we wail our deepest fears
TO THE FIRST PERSON WHO TOOK CARE OF MY BODY By: Nadia Leiby
I am bathing in the taste of yesterday’s you, Slivers of ourselves tucked between my sheets You, mumbling beautiful nonsense, face pressed against my breast, the sirens of Richmond outside
Continue reading…TO THE FIRST PERSON WHO TOOK CARE OF MY BODY By: Nadia Leiby
Smudging By Amanda Blake
I’ve kept the photo albums you sent not on a bookshelf inside my house, (There is no welcome mat for you) but in the pocket of my passenger-side door. No
untitled by Devin Manning
your hands are chains i have never wished to break free from. they hold me firmly yet i couldn’t dream of being let go. your fingers glide slowly over every