poetry

Jacob’s Tale

Nancy Hightower

one’s life can be read through bodies:   my arms reach out to steal my brother’s blessing, then, legs twist around my waist and in the darkness  I press my lips against a salty neck, crying out her name       …

Bone Shadows

Rose Lemberg

I work as a reception clerk in the Lost & Found of days, with only my two shadows to keep me company. You’d think they would do something more interesting than stare at each other while I brew coffee in…