By Katrina Lemaire our blood is long distance a prodigal paradigm shift lipstick mirror kisses & telling horror stories in our basements   using fridge magnets as planchettes letters papered on backwards scribbling out ghost names—   my sister screamed I screamed   mouths peeled open teeth feathering out final girls left at the altar one of us is crying in rosewater one of us is smiling in slaughter so we salt eachother in a circle of raven bones our names no longer a body fo

By Hope Savage I have never known this. Not-stable-steady-love, But-the-juddering-of-fear-love. So-uneasy-on-your-feet- screaming-like-nobody-can-hear-love. The-spitting-biting-hitting-butting- scarcity-of-real-love. The-hit-yourself-in-your-own-face- until-the-day-you-feel-love. The-cannot-move-a-minute- from-my-lap-in-case-I-leave-love. The-appearing-by-my-side- every-single-time-I-breathe-love. The-everyone-is-missing- so-you-worry-I-have-died-love. The-push-me-pull-me-bat

By Maggie Davison In spring, they praise you, as you gather cowslips and garlic. They say you’re a beauty, a child of nature, a gift from God. In summer, they queue at your cottage with sick children and animals, leave with potions of liquorice root, sap, witch hazel and elder. In autumn, they scoop up their children, pin a hare skin to your door, place rowan twigs, tied with red thread, to their garden gates. In winter, they drag you high on the hill, watch as flames burn yo