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delicious new poetry
'Make of me a piecemeal mound' — poetry by Matthew Gustafson
Mar 10, 2026
'Make of me a piecemeal mound' — poetry by Matthew Gustafson
Mar 10, 2026
Mar 10, 2026
'the fever always holds' — poetry by Abbie Allison
Mar 10, 2026
'the fever always holds' — poetry by Abbie Allison
Mar 10, 2026
Mar 10, 2026
'those petty midnights' — poetry by Zoë Davis
Mar 10, 2026
'those petty midnights' — poetry by Zoë Davis
Mar 10, 2026
Mar 10, 2026
'my dear vesuvius' — poetry by jp thorn
Mar 9, 2026
'my dear vesuvius' — poetry by jp thorn
Mar 9, 2026
Mar 9, 2026
'In the doom tunnel' — poetry by Melissa Eleftherion
Mar 9, 2026
'In the doom tunnel' — poetry by Melissa Eleftherion
Mar 9, 2026
Mar 9, 2026
'Love me as a wilderness' — Ruth Martinez
Mar 9, 2026
'Love me as a wilderness' — Ruth Martinez
Mar 9, 2026
Mar 9, 2026
'lost in the  rapture of man' — poetry by Ian Berger
Mar 9, 2026
'lost in the rapture of man' — poetry by Ian Berger
Mar 9, 2026
Mar 9, 2026
'Stop trying to write something beautiful' — poetry by Diana Whitney
Mar 9, 2026
'Stop trying to write something beautiful' — poetry by Diana Whitney
Mar 9, 2026
Mar 9, 2026
'I am a devotee' — poetry by Patricia Grisafi
Mar 9, 2026
'I am a devotee' — poetry by Patricia Grisafi
Mar 9, 2026
Mar 9, 2026
'come enflesh  our feast' — poetry by Haley Hodges
Mar 9, 2026
'come enflesh our feast' — poetry by Haley Hodges
Mar 9, 2026
Mar 9, 2026
'noonday I dive' — poetry by Karen Earle
Mar 9, 2026
'noonday I dive' — poetry by Karen Earle
Mar 9, 2026
Mar 9, 2026
'To eat dying stars' — poetry by Juliet Cook
Mar 9, 2026
'To eat dying stars' — poetry by Juliet Cook
Mar 9, 2026
Mar 9, 2026
‘same spectral symphony’ — poetry by Julio César Villegas
Jan 1, 2026
‘same spectral symphony’ — poetry by Julio César Villegas
Jan 1, 2026
Jan 1, 2026
'I think I know why I am looking at roses' — poetry by Stephanie Victoire
Jan 1, 2026
'I think I know why I am looking at roses' — poetry by Stephanie Victoire
Jan 1, 2026
Jan 1, 2026
'All the trees are you' — poetry by Barbara Ungar
Jan 1, 2026
'All the trees are you' — poetry by Barbara Ungar
Jan 1, 2026
Jan 1, 2026
'girl straddles the axis  of ancient  and eternal' — poetry by Grace Dignazio
Jan 1, 2026
'girl straddles the axis of ancient and eternal' — poetry by Grace Dignazio
Jan 1, 2026
Jan 1, 2026
'Talk light with me' — poetry by Catherine Graham
Jan 1, 2026
'Talk light with me' — poetry by Catherine Graham
Jan 1, 2026
Jan 1, 2026
'How thy high horse hath fallen' — poetry by Madeline Blair
Jan 1, 2026
'How thy high horse hath fallen' — poetry by Madeline Blair
Jan 1, 2026
Jan 1, 2026
'a paradise called  Loneliness' — poetry by Adam Jon Miller
Jan 1, 2026
'a paradise called  Loneliness' — poetry by Adam Jon Miller
Jan 1, 2026
Jan 1, 2026
'Tell me I taste like hunger' — poetry by Jennifer Molnar
Jan 1, 2026
'Tell me I taste like hunger' — poetry by Jennifer Molnar
Jan 1, 2026
Jan 1, 2026
'I prayed to be released from my longing' — poetry by Michelle Reale
Jan 1, 2026
'I prayed to be released from my longing' — poetry by Michelle Reale
Jan 1, 2026
Jan 1, 2026
'Resurrection dance, a prelude' — poetry by V.C. Myers
Jan 1, 2026
'Resurrection dance, a prelude' — poetry by V.C. Myers
Jan 1, 2026
Jan 1, 2026
'It is noon and the sun is ill' — poetry by Raquel Dionísio Abrantes
Jan 1, 2026
'It is noon and the sun is ill' — poetry by Raquel Dionísio Abrantes
Jan 1, 2026
Jan 1, 2026
'every moon rolling fat through the night' — poetry by Zann Carter
Jan 1, 2026
'every moon rolling fat through the night' — poetry by Zann Carter
Jan 1, 2026
Jan 1, 2026
jan1.jpeg
Jan 1, 2026
'I have been monstrously good' — erasures by Lauren Davis
Jan 1, 2026
Jan 1, 2026
'The light slices the mouth' — poetry by Aakriti Kuntal
Jan 1, 2026
'The light slices the mouth' — poetry by Aakriti Kuntal
Jan 1, 2026
Jan 1, 2026
'quiet grandfathers  in dark tuxedos' — poetry by Scott Ferry
Dec 19, 2025
'quiet grandfathers in dark tuxedos' — poetry by Scott Ferry
Dec 19, 2025
Dec 19, 2025
'made a deal / with Azrael' — poetry by Triniti Wade
Dec 19, 2025
'made a deal / with Azrael' — poetry by Triniti Wade
Dec 19, 2025
Dec 19, 2025
'The birth of a body that never unraveled' — an excerpt by Hillary Leftwich
Dec 19, 2025
'The birth of a body that never unraveled' — an excerpt by Hillary Leftwich
Dec 19, 2025
Dec 19, 2025
'Time's metronome blank' — poetry by Rehan Qayoom
Dec 19, 2025
'Time's metronome blank' — poetry by Rehan Qayoom
Dec 19, 2025
Dec 19, 2025
Unsplash

Unsplash

An Ethereal, Dreamy Pisces Season Playlist

February 25, 2020

BY LISA MARIE BASILE

This is a playlist for foggy mornings, for pre-sleep dream rituals, for long baths, for crying therapy, for the long, winding trip down the river Lethe. It’s music for the flowers, it’s music for the lakeside, it’s music for poetry writing and love letters. It’s music for the gauzy soft sorrowful threshold. It’s music for gilded gold and doves. It’s music for disorientation and sweetness.

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Lisa Marie Basile is the founding creative director of Luna Luna Magazine, a popular magazine & digital community focused on literature, magical living, and identity. She is the author of several books of poetry, as well as Light Magic for Dark Times, a modern collection of inspired rituals and daily practices, as well as The Magical Writing Grimoire: Use the Word as Your Wand for Magic, Manifestation & Ritual. Her work focuses heavily on trauma recovery, writing as a healing tool, chronic illness, everyday magic, and poetry. She's written for or been featured in The New York Times, Refinery 29, Self, Chakrubs, Marie Claire, Narratively, Catapult, Sabat Magazine, Bust, HelloGiggles, Best American Experimental Writing, Best American Poetry, Grimoire Magazine, and more. She's an editor at the poetry site Little Infinite as well as the co-host of Astrolushes, a podcast that conversationally explores astrology, ritual, pop culture, and literature. Lisa Marie has taught writing and ritual workshops at HausWitch in Salem, MA, Manhattanville College, and Pace University. She is also a chronic illness advocate, keeping columns at several chronic illness patient websites. She earned a Masters's degree in Writing from The New School and studied literature and psychology as an undergraduate at Pace University. You can follow her at @lisamariebasile and @Ritual_Poetica.


In Art, Music, Magic Tags pisces season, pisces, zodiac, astrology, pisces playlist, playlist, sad music
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December Mantras for Badass Witches

December 4, 2019

Stephanie Valente lives in Brooklyn, New York, and works as an editor. One day, she would like to be a silent film star. She is the author of Hotel Ghost (Bottlecap Press, 2015) and Waiting for the End of the World (Bottlecap Press, 2017). Her work has appeared in dotdotdash, Nano Fiction, LIES/ISLE, and Uphook Press. She can be found at her website.

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In Wellness Tags Lifestyle, astrology, zodiac
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Weekly Mantras for Badass Witches

November 5, 2019

Stephanie Valente lives in Brooklyn, New York, and works as an editor. One day, she would like to be a silent film star. She is the author of Hotel Ghost (Bottlecap Press, 2015) and Waiting for the End of the World (Bottlecap Press, 2017). Her work has appeared in dotdotdash, Nano Fiction, LIES/ISLE, and Uphook Press. She can be found at her website.


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In Magic, Lifestyle Tags astrology, zodiac
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Bibliomancy with Etel Adnan’s Night. Image by Lisa Marie Basile.

Bibliomancy with Etel Adnan’s Night. Image by Lisa Marie Basile.

Bibliomancy Horoscopes: Divination With Etel Adnan's Poetry

October 18, 2019

BY LISA MARIE BASILE

Books speak to us, create worlds for us, and conjure both the questions and answers that reside within us. When we turn to books and written texts for some greater message, a message from beyond the page, we become literary witches — or bibliomancers. Bibliomancy (which goes by many other names) is the use of books in acts of divination. The goal here is to find greater wisdom, to lean into that Force or Spirit beyond and yet within the page.

Like the ancient practice of sortes (also a form of cleromancy, the use of lots for divination), the practice of divination from drawing a card or other object, bibliomancy has long had a place across cultures and in many folk traditions. Bibliomancers traditionally used the bible for divination, although grimoires and other sacred texts were also used.

According to the University of Michigan’s Romance Languages and Literatures, poetry — how delicious! — was consulted as well. The Dīvān of Ḥāfeẓ, a collection of ghazals written by the great Persian poet Hafiz, was used to seek “Tongue of the Unseen,” or messages via the poet after his death. Today, it’s still common for people to use sacred texts, like the I-Ching or the Bible to divine wisdom.

When we use poetry, of course, there is a technical term for that: Rhapsodomancy. However, bibliomancy seems to cover it for most people.

There’s even a fun intersection of the modern and the ancient over at the Bibliomancy Oracle, a simple webpage that offers up lines of poetry after concentrating and opening a “book” by clicking a button on the site. My poetry has even been included! The site says, “This Oracle selects passages from its database using a random generator. The idea being that meaningful texts are offered via synchronicity. The relevant message finds you. You only need to be open to receiving it.”

I’ve been consulting books for wisdom long before I knew what I was doing. I’d thumb through Bluets by Maggie Nelson or Rumi’s work — seeking wisdom, motivation, a message — and poetry never failed me. I’m sure you’ve done this, too, perhaps subconsciously. Not reading, per se, but seeking. Stumbling upon a stanza. It wasn’t until a few years ago that I began intentionally meditating on a question before selecting a passage and journaling about the line or stanza I’d be directed to upon asking it.

Like tarot or astrology, bibliomancy asks us to lean into the mystery and examine what we’ve been told. What is revealed? What does this revelation ask of us? What sings out when we see the words before us?

In this practice, the reader opens a book, whatever book calls out to them. As a poet, I prefer poetry. The reader then may call out to a guide or spirit to direct them to passage. Then, with eyes closed, the reader selects a page and then selects a line ( at least this is how I do it; although I am secular, so I work with no entity or deity). From there, the given line can be taken as wisdom, an omen, or a sign. Intuit this. Sometimes, people place the book on its spine and let it fall open (this was traditionally done with the bible, according to some research).

Although there are many approaches to bibliomancy, it is best that you create your own approach. Poems offer the most beautiful and mysterious answers to those questions we hold quiet and deep within us, I believe. In their ability to span the liminal parts of the self — the unsaid, the almost-said, the said-between-the-lines — poems offer great wisdom. Perhaps the spirit of the poet is there to direct you as well.

Poems are little written oceans, in which we dive deep, hungry to reach the bottom. Perhaps there is no bottom and that is the answer. Perhaps it’s the journey that matters.

When you let the book fall open, investigate what a line could mean in the context of your life. What images does it bring to mind? How does it make you feel? What does it force you to think about that perhaps you had not before? 

etel adnan

Here, I’ll be doing that for you — for each of the sun signs.

The method: I’ll be opening a poetry book every two weeks and asking for wisdom for each every sign. I will put myself into a receptive, trance-like state (I believe being loose, open, and connected yields the most accurate answers), close my eyes, call out the sign I’m asking about, thumb through the pages of a book, and let my fingers guide me to a line.

It is up to you to reflect the line assigned to your sun sign. Journal about it, meditate on it and listen to the way it reverberates through your mind. Let it stay with you. Write it down and carry it with you.

And at the very least, you’ll discover a new poet.

Our poet is Etel Adnan, and we draw on her book, NIGHT.

Aries

My breathing is a tide. Love doesn’t die.

Taurus

Memory is intelligent. It’s a knowledge seated neighter in the senses, nor the spirit, but in collective memory. It is communal….it helps us rampage through the old self, hang on the certitude that it has to be.

Gemini

What we mean by “God” is that He is night. Reality is night too. From the same night.

Cancer

Words trace their way to the ocean. From the ridge facing this house, signals take off, scaring us, but a large stride, a deep breath, restores tranquility.

Leo

Love creates sand-storms and loosens reality’s building stones. Its feverish energy takes us into the heart of mountains.

Virgo

One day, the sun will not rise at its hour, therefore that won’t be a day. And without a day, there won’t be a night either.

Libra

Are the rockets shooting for the moon killing invisible animals on their way?

Scorpio

Everything I do is memory. Even everything I am.

Sagittarius

Sometimes the sea catches fire.

Capricorn

We create reality by just being. This is also true for the owl who right now is dozing on a branch.

Aquarius

Our mind has a border line with the universe, there, where we promenade, and where tragedy resides.

Pisces

Memory is within us and reaches out, sometimes missing the connection with reality, it's neighbor, its substance.

For more on poetry, divination and magical writing, preorder my forthcoming book, THE MAGICAL WRITING GRIMOIRE.


Lisa Marie Basile is the founding creative director of Luna Luna Magazine--a digital diary of literature and magical living. She is the author of "Light Magic for Dark Times," a modern collection of inspired rituals and daily practices, as well as the forthcoming book, "The Magical Writing Grimoire: Use the Word as Your Wand for Magic, Manifestation & Ritual." She's written for Refinery 29, The New York Times, Self, Chakrubs, Marie Claire, Narratively, Catapult, Sabat Magazine, Healthline, Bust, Hello Giggles, Grimoire Magazine, and more. Lisa Marie has taught writing and ritual workshops at HausWitch in Salem, MA, Manhattanville College, and Pace University. She earned a Masters's degree in Writing from The New School and studied literature and psychology as an undergraduate at Pace University.

In Bibliomancy Horoscopes Tags The Magical Writing Grimoire, Grimoire, Bibliomancy, Rhapsodomancy, Cleromancy, Writing Magic, Etel Adnan, divination, rumi, Hafez, Horoscopes, zodiac, ritual, poetic ritual
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Weekly Mantras for Badass Witches

October 15, 2019

Stephanie Valente lives in Brooklyn, New York, and works as an editor. One day, she would like to be a silent film star. She is the author of Hotel Ghost (Bottlecap Press, 2015) and Waiting for the End of the World (Bottlecap Press, 2017). Her work has appeared in dotdotdash, Nano Fiction, LIES/ISLE, and Uphook Press. She can be found at her website.


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In Lifestyle Tags astrology, zodiac
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zodiac

3 Poems by Liv Walton

April 4, 2019

BY LIV WALTON
Curated by Nicola Maye Goldberg

Taurus

You will feel a flash of orange and then something new. You will feel, maybe — that it is your birthright to have tangerines in a bowl on your counter, and you will be correct. The stars have aligned above a tear in the earth and you should dress in sienna, paint your nails rust; lie with your shoulder blades against a cool plot of ground and recall that without gravity, the flame of a candle is round and blue.

We can’t say for certain, but if you were to wear blush on Friday something nice might happen to you. We can’t say for certain, but if you pause to buy lilacs at the bodega on the corner a beautiful stranger might know you. We can’t say for certain, but if you come across water you have gone the right direction.

You are in motion — the burn of your lungs, the length of your spine; you are running and itching and spilling this springtime. You will outgrow something that was once a comfort; you will replace it with a song you hum in the soft parts of yourself.

Taurus, you might always be on the strange side of tender but someone has given you a secret that tastes yellow. Have you seen the phosphorescence in August? You will be that wild light to someone who loves you.

Suggestions: write the words you need on the back of your hand. cry on an uptown train in the odd hours of morning [there is awe to be considered]. look at the photo you haven’t forgotten. the number 27 will be important.


Aquarius

So far you have seen every type of sunset, but you miss the way light casts blue in those slow hours before dawn. Of course there are strings, but you will know how to weave together what is wanted when it calls you. Make the motion that feels natural, then make it again with your other hand.

In general, you should pet more dogs. Place yourself in green surroundings and put down what can afford to be left behind. Midweek you will spill an important thing, but you will find it again in some unexpected way. We wish we could tell you more, but we’ve already forgotten —

Aquarius, you are numbers and numbers but the rhythm of desire speaks in so many different tongues. Be slow with yourself and sit amongst the hidden pages: a message you wrote will reveal itself in those depths. This month your horizons will shift endless and open; you will feel unmoored but not unsettled. Consider the points where you have made contact and the direction of your motions — you move to a frequency others should attune to.

We suggest you write a haiku that has no thread. We suggest that you log off of web md forever. And we suggest that, if you know the words, try to speak them. Be mindful of the bits that smolder.


Virgo


The good news is that the days have been getting longer for three weeks now. The good news is that the rain has cleared, and tonight there will be sky through the top corner of your kitchen. The good news is that always and always but especially today, when they look down at you the stars say: whatever.

You will learn this year that Instagram fame is rapturous but fleeting, and you will parse the difference between types of stillness (a clue: one will tremble). You will unspool something that spills navy, and minutes will sit heavy, but you will think: moon cycle. Think: fingerprints. Think: unravel.

Virgo, you are a different touch – for you I am new, I am neat and terrible and please; all teeth. (A habit I can’t shake: the unbelievableness of wantingsomeonewantingme still jolts me back to sixteen, delirious).

For you, we suggest downhill and downtime. For you, we suggest Frank Ocean’s brand of forever. For you, we suggest leaving this one up to chance. The good news is that there’s still more to be had


Liv Walton is a Canadian writer based in New York City. 

In Poetry & Prose Tags liz walton, poetry, zodiac
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Luca De Santis/Flickr

Luca De Santis/Flickr

Which NIN Song Are You Based on Your Zodiac Sign?

October 17, 2018

Joanna C. Valente is a human who lives in Brooklyn, New York. They are the author of Sirs & Madams (Aldrich Press, 2014),The Gods Are Dead (Deadly Chaps Press, 2015), Marys of the Sea (Operating System, 2017), Sexting Ghosts (Unknown Press, 2018), Xenos (Agape Editions, 2016), and the editor of A Shadow Map: Writing by Survivors of Sexual Assault (CCM, 2017). They received their MFA in writing at Sarah Lawrence College. Joanna is the founder of Yes Poetry and the managing editor for Luna Luna Magazine. Some of their writing has appeared in Brooklyn Magazine, Prelude, BUST, Spork Press, and elsewhere. Joanna also leads workshops at Brooklyn Poets. joannavalente.com / Twitter: @joannasaid / IG: joannacvalente  


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In Music Tags occult, astrology, zodiac, nine inch nails, music
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Which Damned Song Are You Based on Your Zodiac?

August 10, 2017

Basically, which Dave Vanian and Captain are you? Or, you know, which songs should you be listening to right now? (Well, all of them, but here's a few.)

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In Pop Culture Tags the damned, music, astrology, zodiac
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via Oyster Magazine

via Oyster Magazine

See Which The Cure Song Fits Your Zodiac Sign

July 28, 2016

 I started to think about Cure songs that correspond with zodiac signs, and came up with a list below

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In Lifestyle Tags the cure, zodiac, Astrology
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Featured
'I think I know why I am looking at roses' — poetry by Stephanie Victoire
Stephanie Victoire
'I think I know why I am looking at roses' — poetry by Stephanie Victoire
Stephanie Victoire
Stephanie Victoire
'All the trees are you' — poetry by Barbara Ungar
Barbara Ungar
'All the trees are you' — poetry by Barbara Ungar
Barbara Ungar
Barbara Ungar
'girl straddles the axis  of ancient  and eternal' — poetry by Grace Dignazio
Grace Dignazio
'girl straddles the axis of ancient and eternal' — poetry by Grace Dignazio
Grace Dignazio
Grace Dignazio
Featured
'Make of me a piecemeal mound' — poetry by Matthew Gustafson
Matthew Gustafson
Matthew Gustafson
'Make of me a piecemeal mound' — poetry by Matthew Gustafson
Matthew Gustafson
Matthew Gustafson
Matthew Gustafson
Matthew Gustafson
'the fever always holds' — poetry by Abbie Allison
Abbie Allison
Abbie Allison
'the fever always holds' — poetry by Abbie Allison
Abbie Allison
Abbie Allison
Abbie Allison
Abbie Allison
'those petty midnights' — poetry by Zoë Davis
Zoë Davis
Zoë Davis
'those petty midnights' — poetry by Zoë Davis
Zoë Davis
Zoë Davis
Zoë Davis
Zoë Davis
'my dear vesuvius' — poetry by jp thorn
jp thorn
jp thorn
'my dear vesuvius' — poetry by jp thorn
jp thorn
jp thorn
jp thorn
jp thorn
'In the doom tunnel' — poetry by Melissa Eleftherion
Melissa Eleftherion
Melissa Eleftherion
'In the doom tunnel' — poetry by Melissa Eleftherion
Melissa Eleftherion
Melissa Eleftherion
Melissa Eleftherion
Melissa Eleftherion
'Love me as a wilderness' — Ruth Martinez
Ruth Martinez
Ruth Martinez
'Love me as a wilderness' — Ruth Martinez
Ruth Martinez
Ruth Martinez
Ruth Martinez
Ruth Martinez
'lost in the  rapture of man' — poetry by Ian Berger
Ian Berger
Ian Berger
'lost in the rapture of man' — poetry by Ian Berger
Ian Berger
Ian Berger
Ian Berger
Ian Berger
'Stop trying to write something beautiful' — poetry by Diana Whitney
Diana Whitney
Diana Whitney
'Stop trying to write something beautiful' — poetry by Diana Whitney
Diana Whitney
Diana Whitney
Diana Whitney
Diana Whitney
'I am a devotee' — poetry by Patricia Grisafi
trish grisafi
trish grisafi
'I am a devotee' — poetry by Patricia Grisafi
trish grisafi
trish grisafi
trish grisafi
trish grisafi
'come enflesh  our feast' — poetry by Haley Hodges
Haley Hodges
Haley Hodges
'come enflesh our feast' — poetry by Haley Hodges
Haley Hodges
Haley Hodges
Haley Hodges
Haley Hodges
'noonday I dive' — poetry by Karen Earle
Karen Earle
Karen Earle
'noonday I dive' — poetry by Karen Earle
Karen Earle
Karen Earle
Karen Earle
Karen Earle
'To eat dying stars' — poetry by Juliet Cook
Juliet Cook
Juliet Cook
'To eat dying stars' — poetry by Juliet Cook
Juliet Cook
Juliet Cook
Juliet Cook
Juliet Cook
‘same spectral symphony’ — poetry by Julio César Villegas
Julio César Villegas
Julio César Villegas
‘same spectral symphony’ — poetry by Julio César Villegas
Julio César Villegas
Julio César Villegas
Julio César Villegas
Julio César Villegas
'I think I know why I am looking at roses' — poetry by Stephanie Victoire
Stephanie Victoire
Stephanie Victoire
'I think I know why I am looking at roses' — poetry by Stephanie Victoire
Stephanie Victoire
Stephanie Victoire
Stephanie Victoire
Stephanie Victoire
'All the trees are you' — poetry by Barbara Ungar
Barbara Ungar
Barbara Ungar
'All the trees are you' — poetry by Barbara Ungar
Barbara Ungar
Barbara Ungar
Barbara Ungar
Barbara Ungar
'girl straddles the axis  of ancient  and eternal' — poetry by Grace Dignazio
Grace Dignazio
Grace Dignazio
'girl straddles the axis of ancient and eternal' — poetry by Grace Dignazio
Grace Dignazio
Grace Dignazio
Grace Dignazio
Grace Dignazio
'Talk light with me' — poetry by Catherine Graham
Catherine Graham
Catherine Graham
'Talk light with me' — poetry by Catherine Graham
Catherine Graham
Catherine Graham
Catherine Graham
Catherine Graham
'How thy high horse hath fallen' — poetry by Madeline Blair
Madeline Blair
Madeline Blair
'How thy high horse hath fallen' — poetry by Madeline Blair
Madeline Blair
Madeline Blair
Madeline Blair
Madeline Blair
'a paradise called  Loneliness' — poetry by Adam Jon Miller
Adam Jon Miller
Adam Jon Miller
'a paradise called  Loneliness' — poetry by Adam Jon Miller
Adam Jon Miller
Adam Jon Miller
Adam Jon Miller
Adam Jon Miller
'Tell me I taste like hunger' — poetry by Jennifer Molnar
Jennifer Molnar
Jennifer Molnar
'Tell me I taste like hunger' — poetry by Jennifer Molnar
Jennifer Molnar
Jennifer Molnar
Jennifer Molnar
Jennifer Molnar
'I prayed to be released from my longing' — poetry by Michelle Reale
Michelle Reale
Michelle Reale
'I prayed to be released from my longing' — poetry by Michelle Reale
Michelle Reale
Michelle Reale
Michelle Reale
Michelle Reale
'Resurrection dance, a prelude' — poetry by V.C. Myers
V.C. Myers
V.C. Myers
'Resurrection dance, a prelude' — poetry by V.C. Myers
V.C. Myers
V.C. Myers
V.C. Myers
V.C. Myers
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