Prologue to a Memoir Based on Love Letters to my Dead Husband By Margaret S. Mandell Sunday, December 10, 2017 My Dearest Love: October 2015. I am swimming laps alone […]
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Prologue to a Memoir Based on Love Letters to my Dead Husband By Margaret S. Mandell Sunday, December 10, 2017 My Dearest Love: October 2015. I am swimming laps alone […]
Read moreAmber, scarlet, gilded daffodil. All sits quiet, calm,and the sun sets as I turn to you. It takes a second but then I see a granuleof sand that chips away, […]
Read moreIn my first memory as a child, I sit naked in a garden somewhere in the Congo watching ants scutter in line. They lug the pale green carcass of a […]
Read more“My mother says the camera steals souls,” #MetaworkerMonday
Read moreNights are essays in loneliness words scrawled in the darknone to be retrieved, I stretch on the bed; disheveled like my hair,twinning with the night.My flesh sinks far below, a […]
Read moreDust motes dance on sunlight streaming through a dingy window. Rusty mailbox, empty, always empty. Cadaverous cobwebs mocking back at him from a peeling wall. He sits alone in his […]
Read moreNot like in the motion pictures but we had our moments. There is no record, no pesky scribe seeking the “hows” and “whys” of it. No scoops, no cover stories. […]
Read moreHome, a major chord, played to sustain. Pattern of wallpaper’s texture ingrained into décor of mind. As chorus hook plays over reminisced wonder, synapses fire to warm chills of time […]
Read moredaytime gutter vomit scared to change your way from one that has been making you money color-segregated schools for the blind the increasing pressure to pass— indeed, identify—as one of […]
Read moreEditor’s Note: Per the author’s request, we have left this piece untitled. * These crumbs are from so many places yet after every meal they ripen sweeten in time for […]
Read moreMegan Denese Mealor has been published widely in numerous journal, most recently Children Churched & Daddies, Beakful, streetcake, and Harbinger Asylum. A two-time Pushcart Prize nominee, her debut poetry collection, […]
Read moreIt’s autumn now. The leaves are carrying quiet dust on their surfaces. Northern winds puff and relieve your skin from the unforgiving sun. Soon there will come winter. It will […]
Read moreDiamond shimmers within sand, an ardor in the moon’s brightness; a whisper. Stealing of devoted memories cast one’s heart off into eternity; the promissory. Talking of love and deep passions, […]
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