Month: March 2021

Dust by Aldas Kruminis

Old dusts settle in your shadow, left behind
they set and stretch into the darkness of your past.

The wind against your face coaxes the dust off your hair
and all the grime floats away, settling on your trailing footsteps.

A Rain to End All Droughts by Avra Margariti

It’s not the hottest summer of their red-nosed lives, but it is a close call. The Verona apartment complex becomes a desert oasis, wavering at the edges. The pavement burns and bubbles as cats mew irritably from their windowsill perches. Clotheslines criss-cross taut between balconies; the garments hanging from them–once colorful, patched flags–are now bleached bone.

“This isn’t a normal drought,” neighbors whisper to one another between balconies, licking the desiccated insides of their mouths.