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Environment

by MAY ZHENG (United States)

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December 2019

Air sticks to my skin, 

like honey. mosquitos circle my ankles and wrists

by MARGHERITA MORO (Italy)

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December 2019

The grass stings my thighs and whispers at me to move my legs so that it may look upon the stars 

by ELLA GREEN (New Zealand)

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December 2019

I try to think of death as an ocean; uncharted and unknown, but vast.

by TING LIN (China)

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December 2019

I look at you for decades and your words

melt in this subtropical heat.

by ELEANOR LEWIS (Wales)

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December 2019

i have come back

to the village i swore i would never see again

by JUNFANG ZHANG (Singapore)

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September 2019

Perpetually sitting in a corner of my room is a large carrier bag filled with cast-off clothes.

by WILLIAM DASHE (United States)

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September 2019

Suburban living is a great, untested experiment. While this style of living . . .

by ELIZABETH BUNTIN (United States)

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April 2019

There is a certain inscrutability in the mercurial ebb and flow of life in the woods, an unassuming cadence that settles just beyond my naive circumspection. The dry sweep of the wind’s touch is fond and insidious in turns . . .

by MAI MCGAW (United States)

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April 2019

On a frosty October morning, I walk to a field

And lie flat on my back in the dewy grass.