Poetry: RUA DO BORJA, 105 (balançé nº1) by Ronan Hyacinthe
Feeling the sun through a crack:
Feeling the sun through a crack:
Boy legs don’t fit on boy beds.
Sound that wiggles your teeth.
Our Statement on Current Events in Israel and Palestine.
what does mapping impose
on our {corporeal} experience
You just need a regular notebook.
Being fourteen is balancing on a bridge in the middle of the night and wondering if staying would bring just as much pain as going.
We drive inside the belly of a whale
I’ve always been interested in dysfunctional families in my fiction.
this January skins refused to sag
the feet craved pumiced rituals