Photography by Joana Meurkens Interview by Carolina Meurkens Taj E. M. Burroughs (he/him/his) is a Black queer actor, writer and all-around artist from Queens, New York. He is currently receiving his BFA in acting from Mason Gross School of the Arts at Rutgers University. Taj recently was a part of AYE DEFY’S reading of Model…
Read MoreThe pain in my spine holds Foundation for my wings I have come too far in This storm to die by rain Erin Powell is a data analyst by day, and dancing queen at night. She is based in Chicago, find her on IG @eskypowell.
Read MoreShe left my medicine on the kitchen table. She left my medicine in the same packaging that she bought it in. The same packaging that everyone outside touched. Maybe they sneezed on it. Maybe they coughed on it. Maybe they spoke over it. Maybe they didn’t wash their hands when they came from the toilet…
Read Morefather does not like calling my name; he says it’s too long;& it sounds like boredom & sometimes like grief; & it makes his jaw hurt & he hates everything; & every time he tries to stress them properly, he bites his tongue & chew on his cheeks. so, i go about bearing it all;…
Read Moremy love is a thunderstorm a heavy-clouded heartache the sky is crying, opening angrily bodies of dark clouds rolling in colors of gray deepening thick set drops of rain descend on leaves clinging to corners as if there could be shelter from the onslaught wells of water fill each empty space until nothing is dry…
Read MoreWhose imagination birthed you? The handiwork of stolen books, a patchless quilt a stranger’s kindness resting on the shoulders of each patient lover. I got excellent taste, everyone I touch unmakes me. Perhaps there is a knack to this melting in a mouth, sniffing out the better God, settling for my highest self. I cool…
Read MoreIf If I had a dream, I’d tell Martin Ask him how it feels to rest beside God If he knows Langston or James Tell ‘em I said “hi” Ask him what he thinks If we’re doing a good job If we’re doing it right If he’s proud Ask him what the silence means between…
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Ode To Sham I cried for three months straight. I was wet and boredWith summer’s ubiquitous ghostHaunting me at every dikeniAnd every butcher shop. Talkalakh — Homs — Damascus — Latakia.I zigzagged from East to West, North to South,But the heat of summer hitchhiked to each city! I remember a young me,Ironed out on streets…
Read Morehow much i’d give i wish i could go back to when i had control i wish i would just stop filling up this fucking bowl i wish i could pretend that being big is just not me i wish i could be happy with the body that i see i wish i could still…
Read MoreJooon Joooon. Hepsi sana verecem. I might be naive when I say we should hold onto this but why is it so wrong to want a sand timer love when it looks like our bodies papier mached to one another. Canım. Canım. Canım benim. I am impatient with improbability. All I know is right now…
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