The Body Becomes a Pool to Drink From–A Poem by Levi Cain
Three Poems–by Sequoia LeBreux
The Monarchs–Poems by Annette Hakiel
Learning to Cry–A Poem by Sidra
The Hawk–by pavlos stavropoulos
Same Name–A Lyric Essay by Jessica Willingham
Podcast: Interview with Sydney Fowler–Author, Activist + Sensitivity Reader–by Courtney E. Morgan
Love Notes (Sort of) to Late Winter—Editorial by Courtney E. Morgan and Ansley Clark
by pavlos stavropoulos
TW: sexual assault, violence
We leave the park where we stopped to rest and eat. The temperature is dropping, and we need to move again. Freema is tense. “It’s too quiet. There’s something wrong.”
“It’s early afternoon, nobody will be back yet,” Lupe says.
“This is M-Sec, not the Core. There should be people around.”
Podcast: Interview with Sydney Fowler–Author, Activist + Sensitivity Reader
Please enjoy our interview with Sydney Fowler, author, queer + trans activist, and sensitivity reader + consultant. We talk about sensitivity reading and the publishing industry, call-out culture, The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina, and more.Continue Reading
Love Notes (Sort of) to Late Winter—Editorial
Thoughts and musings on the season by The Thought Erotic editors, Courtney E. Morgan and Ansley Clark
by Alicia Cohn
TW: sexual assault
When your head pops out of the water, he is there, two lanes over and looking your direction.
You wheel around. Shoving away from the wall is pressurized with adrenaline. You shoot forward like a rocket.
Whoosh air out your nose. Turn your head. Grab some air. Raise arm behind you from the elbow. Slice through the water with your hand. Repeat.
Same Name–A Lyric Essay
by Jessica Willingham
I used to hate my name until I saw it in her mouth.
But then I stopped feeling bored and felt more apart.
Jessica, Ashley, Britney, Stephanie, Jennifer.
Rainbow key chains, different but all the same.
Underneath we all want ourselves.
Learning to Cry—A Poem by Sidra
If you’re not willing to hold someone
for an hour while they cry
then we can’t have sex.
I’m new at crying you see.
It’s a skill I forgot.
The Body Becomes a Pool to Drink from–A Poem by Levi Cain
brilliant is the noise
of palming myself
The Monarchs Shrugged—Poems by Annette Hakiel
Liberty as a Luxurious Thorn of the Future Content
Today our twin skeletons fell upon the tired chromatic sheets
like earth. The day began to look like the moths