Tag Archives: Ariana D. Den Bleyker

To Be Sitting Right Next to Someone, to Love Them, But Not Know Them at All

We sit against extinguished emotion— feeling a relative term—void of heart—a punch, a last word reminiscent of the past, naked, vulnerable, yet invincible, riding the world on a mechanical bull, backs tall— our highest, brightest selves tossed perpetually backwards, spines … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry | Tagged | Leave a comment

Bless Small Accidents

The world is silent, not still, faster but more silent, which is how it will always be. The end, if it comes, will be quiet darkness, rain warm as flesh, gust of wind—a mercy—a forgotten tree ripe for the imagining, … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry | Tagged | Leave a comment

I Wear the Flesh of an Imperfect Animal

I didn’t have to trade my life in compromises when winter sprang at me, daring me once again to tease or test my resolve for just how much I can stand after going home. I didn’t want to go. I … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry | Tagged | Leave a comment

Hunger Spoke

The girl at the market offered me a sample of fried okra. The older man standing next to me took one, turned to me and nodded. “Hunger comes naturally to us,” he whispered while holding it up for me to see, “eat what … Continue reading

Posted in Fiction | Tagged | Leave a comment