not just the sting of the whip, the nothingcoloredblue of the ocean / or the spaces so dark and putrid and red black brown fleshsmelling

You are kissing a boy / whom you will someday / marry, maybe / ten years from now.

A cursory study of Black women’s critical responses to Antebellum on YouTube reveals a high-level discourse and frustration about the trailer that is not present in most print reviews.

A comic by Rebecca Kennedy.

By Tara Isabel Zambrano. What would we do if we lost our limbs, our genitals, and lay next to each other, helpless throughout the endless room of night, our skin turning blue without touching, blue with loneliness, blue as an empty promise of forever love? (Sex, Kink, and the Erotic)

a boy’s head inscribed on a coin flipped

To see you, realised.

The coming-of-age writer is sitting in her first Fiction Workshop at a Liberal Arts College. She grew up devouring the stories of this country the way only an outsider could, by looking up each phrase and testing it out on her tongue.

who are we, if not the living?

Mariah Bosch brings us an electrifying Honey Literary mix. Enjoy!

& he’s lonely / the way God was lonely / when He made fucking everything

When I began working as a submissive at a commercial dungeon in 2013, Fifty Shades of Grey was topping (pun intended) the bestseller lists…

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.

The power of images is that they’re inextinguishable, endlessly generative.

Addie Tsai interviews Kama La Mackerel.

Rust smells sharp, as does crumbling foliage/and stinging taste of childhood on my tongue.

I have almost grown too fond of/windsong, the slow crescendo of a/sister’s death on the/xylophone, hypnosis.