Comments (0) Issue 2, Poetry, Writing


By Racheal Rodman


Too much anxious time is spent
thinking about the space

that you and I occupy


in a political sense.
Rather than

ruminate on rhetoric, I

refuse huddling under a queer umbrella


and linger instead

in rain of Sappho, woman-loving,

self-conscious, even gleeful,


not guilty or effaced.

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