Communion of a Coconut by Emma Stout

C o m m u n i o n o f

T h e C o c o n u t

by Emma Stout

You think that knowing the velocity of the earth will stop it from spinning.

And so, you write the formula in your head While hacking at the edges While watching their heads lift back a little too far

You hack and you hack until the knife is slippery with juice

Until even Orion notices you’re not hacking To find the center To release the pressure

They stop laughing when the spritz erupts In a stunned silence, they ignore the carnage

The bloodied skin.

They lift their arms in unison Welcoming the mortal mess of earth into their slow embrace

The bloodied skin Communion of the Coconut

i am

by Sarrah Hakimjee

Moonlight on a stormy night/ My mother’s hushed prayers at the brink of dawn/ shoulders colored with hope/ eyes drowned in oceans of tears/ my sister’s alter ego/ A home to mother-tongues, the ones that began in India and found themselves in East Africa/ Blossoming frangipanis/ the essence of curiosity/ A novelty to the idea of feeling/ oceans apart from my lover/ a heart mender/ an ambassador for faith/ my father’s dreams incarnate/ the liquid that drips out of the fractured moon/ amber hues in autumn/ sunflowers smiling at the sun/ a blooming forest fire/ fire. I am a beating heart. My name is ةراس

Devonian The Sting Ray

by Kyle Burton

art | Deena Bhanarai

Begin the deep dig: I knew you In the dark. I knew you hard. I knew you wingless and submerged, Devonian, In the great sea.

You knew me willful and callous till We dulled our teeth on each other, We kneaded each other soft. You knew me Always with my eyes up, Looking past your face.

The sun through the surface Looked warm and felt cold. It was all I had known. I marched you to The horizon, the coast, and I Made the trade for you. A new world, bright and dry, for you. You stayed behind.

Have I been eons looking in? You Have wings now, a spine. You fly Up to the surface, take the sun But never pass through.

I’m dry but I’m numb. And the shale comes down. I’m sun hardened clay That won’t mold. I’m bloody, Blunting my feet back to fins. And I’ve been eons looking in.