Like stemless flowers dying alongside each other,  my breasts shrivel into sunless inexistence,  each deflated convexity a bare stone......

a man; a woman: clods of dirt on the sill of time how we spend sighs...

Editor’s Comments. One of our prolific reviewers, Aditi Yadav takes a closer look at Emi Yagi’s......

“Before I die, please put me on the bare floor, Kalyani.” This, my mother said, was......

A poem is a glimpse into you. A book of poems is like opening a crumpled......

Molten fires on veiny palms, raging within this burning body.Allow a few more tides, springs to......