Vol. 6, Issue 2: Poetry
AZE, 6(2): Poetry
Contributors: Jules, RJ Ilog, Lionel Kitt, Michael Paramo, Emma Friend, Jennifer Elise Wang, h.e. grahame, L. Amariti, Nora Vien, Baroque Hart, Meera, LiftaSail, Emilie Arnaud, Elle Rose, Nashrah, Faith Cardillo, szelter, Fox Albright, Sylvia, Audrey Ledbetter, Maya Mohammad, Cyndi, Ray, Annabelle Smith
Editor: Michael Paramo
Cover Artwork: “asexual, aromantic, agender font” Paramo
Supporters: This journal issue would not be possible without AZE’s supporters on Patreon. A special thank you to Lindsey, Alex Hansen, Caitlin McKenna, Chris Pasillas, and Heidi Samuelson!
Date of Publication: November 11th, 2023
Recognize yourself in my deluge
Some arrive in pairs;
More leave coupled,
Sometimes in multiples.
You wrote me prose about the rain and
now when it storms I can’t seem to
think about anything else.
O to shield oneself with the visage of the sunset;
To shroud away from the rake of nail and bruise of touch
You rarely get your pictures taken
So I memorized your shy smile,
And will you vow to stay
If I let you plant a kiss
I lay on his lap in the dark
pale faces cotton freckled with time
On the car ride home with you
Me in the passenger seat
You, one hand on the wheel
The other in my hand.
My sun, my radiance
How cruel of me to crave you
Bodies are meant to hold other bodies,
I’ve heard,
but when it’s time I can never
let myself begin / what’s the meaning
of acceptance if everything collapses
Go tell a tree
It’s beautiful and watch it
Lean a little more
Towards the road.
I haven’t made this easy. You may unbutton
my blouse, but you cannot unlace my ribcage.