Baptism || Mitt Ann
by Mitt Ann Baptism [1] There, down, as the evangelists scratch gold, on the East Coast beach by the breasts of s…
by Mitt Ann Baptism [1] There, down, as the evangelists scratch gold, on the East Coast beach by the breasts of s…
by Taylor Stoneman River your mouth to his (if you must) but: refuse to be consumed and remade in his likeness: you…
by William Bortz paint my lips with yours like there is no god worth fearing press me close like the god worth fearin…
by Benjamin E. Nardolilli They asked me how I didn’t know, and I tell them he was quiet, he kept to himself, he paid…
by Rachael Hill Heavy quiet of the deep night hangs around me, do not disturb; I ease the wheels over the kerb, g…
by Megan Hamilton We became our own gods, the divine man on the stage with his microphone, a scalpel dissecting a s…
by Jay Rafferty In the spring we couldn’t tell cicada screech from frog call. Our flat perched over a sewer stream, a…
by Ayobami Kayode Child, saliva so white as snow is a deceit. What lies beneath a red tongue isn't always jewels, …