June 2026
Scott Frost“I am only twelve, mother. I still race goats to the stream & still sleep with my foot outside the mat because I dream of running.
Evangel-Leo-Ken JnrPOETRY
FICTION
The most comfortable spot in Nana’s house is the small space between my bed and the wall. I lie facing downwards, my feet on the pillows, pressed to the headstand. From here, the room narrows. The wall stays cool against my cheek, the carpet marks my arms if I stay too long, and nothing reaches me from behind. I know where my body ends.