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Of Flash, Queer, and the Myths of a Cave

Flash fiction reminds me of my childhood fascination with paleontology and archeology. I loved how, from just a chip of stone or a few improbable…

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Instead

My mother never tells me about the morning I was born, only about the snowstorm—large and heavy and difficult to drive through—instead she teaches me…

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We Mistook This for the Beginning of Something

With her I learned of the omentum. There is a greater and a lesser, and we held hands while looking at both. There is an…

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Do Not Touch

For me it ends like this: with someone else’s vibrator, on someone else’s sheets. But it doesn’t start there. It starts the day I first…

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In This Way, We Fall in Love

I have a sexual fantasy in which I am fucked by all of the white men who have ever said something to me that I…

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