we crawl over the remnants of day, hands clumsily chasing out the very last crevices of sunlight. grazing our fingertips across the...

The girl is not allowed outside on warm days. For the swarms of noise that gather in bunches run through the summer haze. In the night,...

Apropos of love, I’m an abandoned house. Sure, there’s light in the hallway and a box of cookies in the kitchen cupboard, but it’s...

I could compose the symphony of my life, or illustrate the masterpiece of my vitality. I could create an equation that equals me, or tell...

oh, to grow old with you and be yours until god bids me. dying in your arms is a rebirth, an immortalisation of our love, proof that we...

My family has the luck of a penniless black cat at a high-stakes casino. When I was twelve, my mother, my father, and my older brother...

Pleasurably guilty in nihilistic fault line– Naive shadow spots in the midst of sunshine. Unmoved, and awakened in crooked alignments of...

we fools rush in traversing the sward trampling the pasture missing the trees for the forest. We miss the smalti gold leaf hand cut...

nervous whispers sucked mute into the wee hours of the night, I open the door to my Narnia and pull a body inside, sit him on my bed and...

Sonia’s trainers scuffed along cracked paving stones as the school gate faded into a distant scream. She’d read that scientists didn’t...

In the summer of ’80, we were adding a garage to the side of our house. It was a wide, two-car deal with a fancy door and a stairway...

She uses pencil to underline the parts that move her, whether tragically, lovingly, or somewhere else entirely. Her lines are soft, near...

as I lay thinking always remembering how this crapshoot of life crushed my dreams spinning me into an unlikely comedy listening to a busy...

The cool of the twilight After hot summer’s day – The fever is broken, And the heat chased away. By wind in the hollows, By the breezes...

I am burying love between these few lines on pages of a book you will never read, hundreds of love notes addressed to you which I will...

it was the way he painted her contours with a galaxy of stars to illuminate her smile that left them craving the agonisingly slow death...

Stained breaths punctuated the ends of our sentences while echoed teardrops dripped down our mirror bodies. I opened the kitchen window...

I don't understand Why little children cry at playgrounds Why their small fists, the size of small rocks clench in childish frustration....

grave dirt eyes awake ichor lips stealing breath from the mouth of a skull BIOGRAPHY: Dane Lyn (they/them) is an educator, poet, and...

I went to see Der Rosenkavalier’s soprano sitting with the other cast for whom I would never withhold due cheers. But my enthusiasm...