By Miranda Featherstone, Illustrations by Nazila Jamalifard
In July 2021, five weeks after my mother died, my husband dropped me off at the emergency room of the small hospital in the Massachusetts town where my father now lived alone.
By Erin Kate Ryan, Illustrations by Dani Choi
The girl was on fire already when she walked into the town square and still she burned for nine more days.
By Madeline Gressel, Illustrations by Matt Manley
Trichotillomania and the Unconscious Desire to Pull
By Iliana Rocha
Walking into the smell of old wounds, something about my grandmother’sbedroom always kept me from there—the perfumeonce animal golden now rancid & dark as whiskey. Lace-medallioned, doilies marking time turned to loss
By Ama Codjoe
I’m tired of being a woman. I walkinto grocery stores and laundromats wetwith the cracked face of a maidenheadlurching across the Atlantic.
By Lucille Clifton
mary is an old woman without shoes.she doesn't believe it.not when her belly starts to bubble