Illustrations by Grace McKenna Dip your fingers in my scalp. Touch the warm patches the sun left behind. Sully the straight division,...

Illustrations by Grace McKenna I crave some sort of ghostly hereafter, History is a myth, after all. My hands swallowed and unswallowed...

'Mother Tongue', Peyvand Sadeghian Before I learnt “How are you?”, there was “Korek?” That once enthusiastic snarl now leaves me choking....

We are wanting in the dark lights, all hunched, All live, writing in our book With a tethered sigh  And wanting a rest, but loving...

My mind, a landfill that chokes on sorrow, crafts a noose out of a bespoke eclipse; chews pain, reluctant to spit or swallow, for either...

The Age of Discord The refugee’s home is my home But it only became my home when the refugee thanked me for it This is the Age of...

In the Smoking Area Cristina Rizzo “You ok?” He scares me. His voice is hugged by the cushioned music from inside the club. My ears feel...

To be the moon is what he wanted me to be. round serene A face...

At the bottom of the garden the little girl plays. It is spring and the sun is warm in this spot, Filtered through the gaps in the blue...

Nothing Beautiful There is nothing beautiful to say by it, About it, there is nothing gold. The source of my heart, and yet The black...

LED Laser beams of Love and Protection. Ah, I see. I fear You’re Becoming Ungrateful. That’s not how You repay my love. Try, ‘yes!...

The Auld Ways There’s mair value than yous could ever imagine in the auld ways. And they're crumbling awa Gui tricky to catch, But ye’ve...