Your friends are not your friends Your friends are not your friends. There is no such thing as a friend. The wasp devours the honeybee on his dutiful search For the final flower. The flower stagnates, smelling sweet for no one. If it’s true that you kill the things you love Then she loved me […]Read more "Your friends are not your friends"
Milk When I learned your mother hadn’t breastfed you, I wanted to do it. Having no milk, we would have to imagine it. “It tastes like moonlight,” I would say, feeling the silent warmth empty from my breast, a grown man suckling that long denied nourishment, a homecoming. [Meet the Moon | Christian Schloe]Read more "Milk"
Christopher Greer is an educator and writer who lives in Alpharetta, GA. His work has appeared in, or is forthcoming from, Canary, Clarion, Inwood Indiana, and other small journals. He holds an MS from Purdue University. For Tituba How your body must’ve glittered under ceremonial moonlight, unapologetically glowing, wet with wondrous blasphemy. Unchained elation bleeding from the […]Read more "For Tituba"