By: Ella Brady a park bench deserves sun spots, it has earned them. it weathered candy-struck tongues licking lips that form tunnels for whispers that oscillate between swollen party-balloon cheeks. if you stuffed my wrinkle lined mind inside that pastel frame, where I lived with you, would I love still lake water like it was new, every time, would all the muscles in my face … Continue reading Tinted


By: Madison Reid I. My angels are nosy – – lithe bodies/prayer hair/cells of botanist’s terms – “Did we bury him beneath a Quercus or Acer or maybe another?”   II. I dreamed   a drawer held all   I’ve lost. Snow globes / long sleeves, velvet memories, baby teeth.   III.     (Days misplaced mount wings – paint heart shade, heart shape) Continue reading Recollection