We are looking for short fiction, poetry, creative nonfiction, visual art, and photography that explore all the dirty things we’re told to scrub away… and what happens when they stick around.…
My god put a whole star anise on my plate for my suffering
God stripped me of my racism…
I wanted to slowly reveal myself to the people around me
This would be a gift I gave to them alone…
When I was ten I turned my back on society / I wore padded bras / I was like a god…
Working in the dark like the old wheel that I am / I wiggle through the morning…
