and it's just me.
oscillating as a mediation on how i’m feeling now and a dissection of my life, both as an author and immigrant daughter aching for her homeland.
- Indexed issues, last 90 days
- 2
- Latest publication
- Aug 6, 2026
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- Earliest in this view
- Jul 17, 2026
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hip swell, vol. xiv: jun. / jul. favorites. (opens the original)
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july is over, slow bleed into august, and i know summer's death into autumn is just behind. i'm looking forward to the cold.The past month has been placid, my biggest risk being that of developing plantar fasciitis from running my Sperrys into the ground. They’re old, these ballet flats, called “The Emma” after someone beautiful, I’m sure, tops round like a soft moon, crescent-hearted and embedded with the plethora of rhinestones that are starting to surrender toward the heel.Somehow, they have
werewulf : on gender envy, masculinity as a point of desire, and breaking from misandry. (opens the original)
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❝ she talked for a long time. she said things i didn’t understand then, about how, when she would see me riding out to hunt, she felt some wondrous pleasure in it. ❞ — anne rice, the vampire lestat.he is a tower like a quiver of cobras, an overlap of white vine, seething and throttling one another over a long dark scab of stone, malignant to the hilt.I see him come up out of the stream. There is a fall of water off his back, muscle flaring with hidden strength,
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