Issue 1, Poetry, Writing
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May 12, 2015
By Carolyn Mayer In the wax and wane of our conversations we would...
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By Carolyn Mayer the finger of black dust– forgives the...
1• 1390
By Mary-Kate Haley I can feed you lines so beautiful, much like your...
Like• 1303
By Mary-Kate Haley The frigid morning wind blew leaves past at 7 a.m....
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By Jaime Twombly Grown from a sapling into an Awkward young thing...
Like• 1247
By Jaime Lyn Twombly It is Sunday and there is nothing but the newspaper...
Like• 1468
By Jaime Lyn Twombly She was gripping the railing as if she would fall...
1• 1407
May 5, 2015
By Chelsea Sanchez I die several times a month My heart pounds,...
3• 1609
April 19, 2015
By Joseph Nardoni The coffin slid back into the red placental blaze, the...
May 1, 2024