Tag Archives: Sara Ryan

Well, At Least It’s Not Life-Threatening

she is a white and bellowing queen she is not threatening, but a comforting quilt of cold. her body is a chorus of melt and freeze: the endless dance of the two. she has many mouths, guzzling black pits of … Continue reading

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A Memoir of Hands and Feet

This week, her nails are painted an eggshell blue. When she chews the polish off, chips of ocean bleed between her teeth. She changes the color every week: tangerine, aqua, the dark of night. This is her, preening her feathers. … Continue reading

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The Impatient Gardener

1. When did the lemon learn it could be sweet? Have you ever cried in a full room? How does the dew rise to blanket the lawn each morning? Why does the chasm that is the sea’s mouth gut you … Continue reading

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this is how you’ll tell me i’m beautiful

“every woman begins as weather” – Patricia Smith, Blood Dazzler I got my temper from my father. His thunder, his battle hunger. The way he’d explode into a barrel of cloud, like wrestling snakes. I crack my bullwhip against the … Continue reading

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