"The thought of your body breaks me."

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Issue 14: The Double Issue

Issue 13: Free Form

Issue 12: The Necessary Ear

Issue 11: The Necessary Eye

Issue 10: Out on a Limb

Issue 9: The Missing Body

Issue 8: The Lily

Issue 7: Passages

Issue 6: No More Tears

Cynthia Cruz


Then the gun men come and then

The one in blond fox

Clutching the Book of Ruin

In his clean, white hands.

From the barn I could see the star

Of his horse as it galloped toward us.

In the end, there was nothing

We could do.

Just watch as an ocean of bloodhounds

Flood down the side of the mountain.


Ariadne, Waiting

This is how I was found.

Foxed under in nothing, strewn bare in cinquefoil,

Torn loose of the earth, chanting,

The thought of your body breaks me.

Disquieted child, I fall under spells.

Soon, I will receive you, lie with you,

Mend your salt-stung hands.

When the ocean, envious of your leaving,

Moans to the boats and anchors,

We will dream the coming armada,

A covey of dark birds, the deep asunder--