Poetry

Forgiveness / Hurry, Love

Melanie Figg

Did you think your hand
could rearrange the world
with no consequence?
That I’m just some damn doll,
some pupa, sold
on not eating?

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The Writer’s Wife

carly gates

How must she have felt, their second child thrashing

inside of her—did she already agree with him

 

that her happiness lay in sleep? In dreaming

of lying in some other room, of a less fickle moon?

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Requiem / Take Your Daughter to Work

Michelle Brown

Later that Crayola morning, Wonder Woman coloring
book and a stack of DC Comics spread across the
black soapstone counter in her lab, her fascination
with cells never quite translated when I preferred
story, a woman who deflected bullets with her wrists,
an Amazon island forbidden to men, a goddess
religion.

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