“crickets, tell me that” by April Yu
the night has not stolen the taste and shape of my grass-drowned flesh. after all, your croaks already drink the air from my lungs until …
The Metaworker Literary Magazine
Where great stories are forged.
The Metaworker Literary Magazine
Where great stories are forged.
the night has not stolen the taste and shape of my grass-drowned flesh. after all, your croaks already drink the air from my lungs until …