THIS IS HOW WE LOVED : A KNIFE ON A TONGUE TURNING INTO A TONGUE.
– FROM HOME WRECKER, BY OCEAN VUONG
HE WAS WHISPERING BEHIND MY CLOSED EYLIDS. TIME HAD LOST ITS STROBIC BEAT AND ALL STRUCTURES OF MOVEMENT AND SENSATION AND TASTE AND SIGHT AND SOUND BECAME FRAGMENTED, SHIFTING AROUND LIKE PARTICLES IN LAKE WATER. I LOVE GETTING LOST LIKE THIS.
– FROM CLOSE TO THE KNIVES, BY DAVID WOJNAROWICZ
FIN.
