by Allison Brice
I took my breakup quietly, like a pitiful February rain with no lightning.
by Abi Stephenson
She didn’t have to love me. Biology didn’t force her hand the way it does for mothers.
by David Watts
I heard for the second time / the news of his heart transplant, / details like a post card from a foreign country
by Myna Chang
In the grit of a 1975 farm town, 9-year-old girls weigh about 60 pounds, even wicked little girls with bad women for mommas.
by Oak Morse
We were all one beautiful blend / of mama’s love. My brother, / the color of ecru, the other one / sepia, and me, ebony.