Take off your headphones, put down your hauntings, & come inside out of the heat. We’ve been waiting for so long.
Read MoreWelcome to elegy: the last dropped petal—the mirror in mourning—the light still on for what once was beautiful.
Read MoreI am slow to reach for music these days, maybe because music doesn’t feel out of reach anymore.
Read MoreWhen a poem reaches its most potent limits, I consider it reaching into the state of song.
Read MoreThe human face and figure are inescapable transits of power, and seeing certain poses transforming the page grounds me in myself like nothing else.
Read MoreWith my suitcases packed & the sky creased to its perfect middle, I’m the most beautiful I’ve ever been without having already left.
Read MoreWhen I listen to music, it moves through me because it has to. The soundwaves hit my ears, and my body decides where it needs to go next.
Read MoreI could be sharp-tongued, curious, fucked-up—what had never felt available to me. For the first time, French was no longer borrowed, but mine.
Read MoreA selection of songs that have marked this era of fluid warmth, the soundtrack to which we’ve been dreaming a bright new thing into breath.
Read MoreThe artist’s dictum “trust your materials” only started to make sense in collage, with strange fabrics and colors and patterns coalescing in startling meaning.
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