By: Carrie Liang

a breath of frost and frozen promises, stitched together
like great-grandmother’s quilt: disparate squares of longing,
each corner tucked with the residue of what we’ve shed.
here, at the perihelion, Earth leans closest to its star,

By: Aditi Radhakrishnan

January is here, so is the beginning.
Stitches in the light, a quiet repeat for the sky.
With the light out, the dark in hide,
hope prevails within sight.

By: Angela Meng

It had been several months now, several months—
Since anyone had draped it around their shoulders,
Since it had served a purpose.
All it had done as the clock hands spun—

By: Jiyan Jane Fan

after “Girl” by Jamaica Kincaid

wear more plaid shirts; swear off skirts and dresses and all things femme; wear pants to hook a carabiner; you’re more than just a tomboy so act like it; i bet it’s just a phase; cut your hair short to be a butch, that’s the only way you’ll pass as queer; dye your hair orange, white, pink, purple; go vegan and get a cat or something; make sure everyone can tell; get into a lavender marriage to hide it all; find true love on Hinge; be proud of who you are; you’re only queer because a man wronged you; who wears the pants in this relationship?; it’s gotta be one of you, so pick; now pick between lipstick and bloodied lips; take what you can get and move in with her already; kiss her and love her before a man can; speaking of men, which one of you—; oh, you just hate men, but of course you do; anyway, i swear Bumble’s good; maybe you’ll finally find a guy.

By: Carrie Liang

I would unspool my ribs like thread,
if she promised to stitch them into a shroud,
soft enough for love to rest upon.

By: Jiyan Jane Fan

i want her.

my heart is heavy with a parasite called love,
a tapeworm that has destroyed its cage of amber

By: Khaliya Rajan

One by one,
Diplomas are handed out like trophies.
Tassels switch sides like pendulums.
Pins placed on blazers,

By: Aiden Kim

(Field Manual No. 001 – Instructions May Vary)

Step 1. Find the skyline. Keep your eyes closed until every fluorescent light shuts down.
Step 2. Dismantle the hallways. Locker by locker, classroom by classroom, footstep by footstep.

By: Carrie Liang

every day, my grandmother’s clock loses three minutes.
it showed us that time bends around the people we love
long before we understand physics by living
in its own time zone by March.

By: Em Li

falling in love, they told me, was like
staring at stars from an open field, eyes
basking in the ethereal, lost in the
feeling of something more magical than