“River Mud Smell” By E. C. Kelly

River mud smells like movement. Losing constrictions. It’s rich and mythic, fresh and rotting. The smell is the surrender that can occur when I stop resisting the intuitive swells tucked in the folds above my pelvic bone. I first met that smell when I was lying in my parents’ backyard at 3 a.m., naked, my …

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“A Woman Now” By Veronica V. Hough

That July left a stain on her underwear—then-criminal, locking her wide, tearful eyes with its face, red with anger. She screamed with wounds, clawing the body that betrayed her, an attempt to claw out the bodies that broke into her eight years ago in a thicket sick with darkness. Honey, you’re a woman now (when …

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