- Follow Eunoia Review on WordPress.com
Eunoia Review publishes on a daily basis, so it may take some time for your work to appear if there are several contributors scheduled ahead of you. At present, we have work scheduled to be published until 4 March 2019.
Note: Our site is best viewed in Chrome.
If you like what you're reading, why not click the buttons to share it with your friends?
- Days Without You in the Hottest Summer eunoiareview.wordpress.com/2019/02/20/day… 1 hour ago
- Finding Home eunoiareview.wordpress.com/2019/02/20/fin… 13 hours ago
- Escape to Moon Palace eunoiareview.wordpress.com/2019/02/19/esc… 1 day ago
- 730,534 views
Tag Archives: Joshua Berida
You gave me darkness, in the little things, doors left ajar, cabinets barely closed, clothes with dents of your fingertips. I try to remember the last time I saw you. Your brown eyes, your touch that splits oceans, your silence … Continue reading
Naturally, the sun fell from the sky as the day unfolded. Little pieces of light left their scars on the ruins. There was Angkor Wat with the light’s right hand pulling it into darkness. There was nothing left but stories, … Continue reading
I wandered through the ruins of Ayutthaya, carefully measuring my steps to avoid knocking over the broken stones, withered walls, and headless statues. Careful. Measured. Steps. To keep the silences from making noise. I’d like to keep things the way … Continue reading
Black-and-White Dust gathers around the four corners of old boxes, wooden frames with markings that could not be read because the wind carved them with their wispy fingers. The attic seems empty, no objects to kill the spaces between the … Continue reading
You are like the rain, With its small toes seeping through cracks and walls of spider web. Your grip sustains me like the way bees do with flowers. I feel your sweat drip through me holding rain between my body … Continue reading
I remember the time I fit these old clothes, these familiar old skins. The armholes the size of tin cans. The clean white cotton hugging the creases of my body. I recognize the tree stump I used to play in … Continue reading