Mornings After Our only-waking moments.

Sex & Lives Smoking in the corners of New York.

Sex & Lives

What I Learned in Girls’ School

When straight people fuck, they often do so as if they’re writing a simple, declarative sentence. Subject, verb, object: done. Absent are the looping, soaring, hanging dependent clauses; rare is the parenthetical information, footnotes, and annotation; few the tangents that lead you to new, unexplored territories. More

Chelsea G. Summers

Sex & Lives

Seeing Things

Like Hollywood specters (Casper, Candyman), Amalia’s show pieces don’t show up in pictures to prove they exist. More

Fiona Duncan

Sex & Lives

Respectfully, Slave Russell

S&M, and more specifically the time I spent as a professional dominatrix, satisfied the duality of my needs. To pay rent, I needed to make money, which always meant working for someone else; to feel challenged, I needed to be a boss More

Elise Peterson

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Sex & Lives

You’ll Have What I’m Having

Is it a shame when people fumble at the ties that bind and fail and fake it and make do and fake it again and again until pain impedes pleasure, rather than speaking up and voicing their dispassion? More

Chelsea G. Summers

TalksFor once, more answers than questions.


Oh Night Divine!

Santa Claus is certainly a bear. He’s a silver fox! Maybe his ‘significant otter’ is Mrs. Claus. More

Natalie Guevara


Marie’s Struggle

I’m not interested in acting as a victim because I’m a woman; for me, I would rather take space in society. I don’t ask people to listen to me; I demand it. More

Andrew Durbin


Stephen King: He’s Got Soul

King’s core appeal is that, for Americans, he provides a way for communities to deal with or at least begin to face their own unacknowledged shadows. More


Murder, She Wrote

Alexis Coe and I drank tea——the café didn’t have lemonade——as we talked about a 19th-century murder that shocked the nation. … More

Alex Ronan

Belles-LettresLong(er)form musings on mostly mature themes.


The Length of My Skin

“If you were black, you’d be perfect,” Roy told me as he drove us down I-94 to South Milwaukee. He was fantasizing while I was riding shotgun. The death had occured at St. John’s Manor. More

Sarah Wambold


Free the Nipple

Technological advances in breast milk substitutes have washed away the public commerce of breastfeeding in the world’s richest countries, but what did it mean while it was around? More

Josephine Livingstone

Chad Moore


I was not just a body. I wasn’t a body at all. He passed me a handful of ones and said, “Go wild.” More

Eleanor Jane


Oh D’Ang

Aggressive, but vulnerable. That’s the clearest account of black men’s existence in America. More

Stephanye Watts

Bedtime StoriesReading as need.

Bedtime Stories

Odd Thought

Sam would later daydream about the drive, and about the fire, and about how the dead end made every short trip in the Volvo’s interior feel long, and yet temporary, in retrospect. More

Sam McKinniss

Bedtime Stories

Six Sonnets

On sober days
I’ll call it
In the devil’s
Pit, stomping heat
Hallelujah we speak. More

Ana Cecilia Alvarez