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Our song came on the radio today, except it wasn?t ours; it was my song. I had a song for us, a secret song. You?ve heard it today, many times I'm sure, maybe at the same time? together but far apart. This song and you are synonymous in my mind, but you're unfazed by its lyrics, undisturbed by its melody. Between the notes is where we?ll remain, my memories of us haunting the moments of silence I fill with noise.

by Santino Prinzi

BETWEEN THE NOTES CC Photo

Heart full of holes, and the blood drips out, steady as a faucet that leaks, steady as the tea leaves steep. The sharpest night of sighs leaves hearts full of holes, and the blood drips out. Mornings sting of empty sheets. Porous as bone is the ripple retreat, the ground beneath your feet was a heart full of holes. The blood drips out.

by Jacqueline Frasca Photo by Matt Adamik 3 | Ink In Thirds

THERE IS COMFORT IN THE SOUND

Profile for Ink In Thirds

Ink In Thirds - Issue 1  

"A magazine of poised prose, precarious poetry, and photography that makes us want to pilot our own realms again."

Ink In Thirds - Issue 1  

"A magazine of poised prose, precarious poetry, and photography that makes us want to pilot our own realms again."

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