To begin issue 1, an anonymous valentine.
Because I was never good at staying sober, / I chase highs in laundromats, the things I do / for heavy brass soil horn need hot wash, lavender / lemonade
A fact, or a circumstance, of abuse, depending on which way the glass cuts your vision: if a child experiences a significant amount of trauma, early and consistent enough, the images that make up their experiences, dreams, visions, fantasies, abuse, and nightmares become a kind of kaleidoscopic mosaic.
Two poems by Michael Chang.
You are kissing a boy / whom you will someday / marry, maybe / ten years from now.
To see you, realised.
& he’s lonely / the way God was lonely / when He made fucking everything
You stood in front of me wearing a Friend of a Friend cap and monochrome blue outfit, which I don’t think you meant to do, but pulled off quite nicely.
A valentine by Maya Jett.