Gnashing Teeth Publishing

| words that get in your teeth

fascia for the night by Bessie Rubinstein

Holding our single night to the light, we suspend moments next to each another
so the bad stands out worse. You pass through. All this focus on being yourself,
revealing yourself, leads to trouble. You’ll be driven insane separating artifice from
identity. I ended up peeling off some flesh too. Now I swing from my hangers. Why so
tormented by your part?

The crown for most authentic of the night goes to — whoever shot the most deer — but
put that plastic rifle back on its tether so the beeping stops. The machine is defensive;
what can I do.

Only kill bucks, not women and children. Your crumpled singles canceled my tab.
The drink didn’t care that I lost and married us in the backwards glances of friends.

I want to wear your skin of loneliness long enough to relieve you from it. The mosquitos
probing my insides love a palm firm against their needle noses, so please, run your
hands across the floor and listen!! as they chase on many awkward legs. How sweet.
Should we name that one after your mother? Hey. That helicopter rousing the
water never connected with its airborne lover. Stop giving them the satisfaction of a
skyward gaze.

Rise, fall, with the mass on the ground; donate your bold assumptions to the cause;
mourn each layer of fascia that can’t hold. That’s all I learned how to say.

Bio: Bessie (they/them) is a lesbian and tenant living in Boston, Massachusetts. Their favorite piece they’ve written was about Spongebob, for Onomatopee Projects.

Goodnight, Taj Mahal by Andre Peltier

Deep below earth, clay and sand, deep below roots and aquifers, it lies in wait. Like that silent coyote stalking her white-tailed deer through the brush, it waits patiently and

contain by Megan Cartwright

verb past tense: contained; past participle: contained 1. have or hold (someone or something) within. Similar: hold carry To have and to hold in our own microcosm, constructed of hope.

Listening to Words by Mona Mehas

Listening to words out of touch cross lily pads, one to the next my rules, a tiny picture frame debt of honor, repay the gift. Headlights illuminate the path listening

Blooming by Elizabeth Gade

Some days are easy and some days are exhausting the days you have to dig through the muck inside take more hits than a heavyweight prize fighter cling to life

Pomegranate Rose by Laura Peña

I want to feed this delicacy To my concubine A tiny spoonful at a time I want to watch the luscious sorbet Linger on the tip of her tongue Melt


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