Eileen Myles’ Loss of Control
It was almost a higher opportunity, having sleep than sex. I was very excited about losing consciousness. More
Mornings After Our only-waking moments.
Zoë Ligon’s Bone-Dry Mornings
I will never be in the mood for sex in the morning, I think it’s my least sexy hour. My mouth is dry, my crotch is dry. Like, let me get well oiled and running first. We can all benefit from some lubrication. More
Jenny Zhang’s Infinite Dregs
It’s like a weird mindset to wake up and want to be wanted. More
Kaitlin Phillips’ Only Skill
I think all of my friends from last year said, “if you don’t write you’re going to become a loser.” More
Margaux Williamson’s Welcome Confusion
I don’t know how to say it. What is a good dream like? That feeling that there really is meaning even when things don’t make sense. More
Leopoldine Core’s Neverending Daylight
I don’t feel anxious in the morning. I feel timelessness. It’s really sublime… like, breakfast can go on and on and have many courses and a lot of coffee. More
Ruqayyah Alzona’s Windy Soundscapes
My mornings end by 10:00, just by the double-digits of the time. More
Sex & Lives Smoking in the corners of New York.
Every Time We Kiss
Two open mouths pressing together, two tongues twirling like mating leopard slugs, two humans depositing long, glistening trails of spit in one another’s mouths… It’s difficult to forget all this mess, and yet we do, every time we kiss. More
Stress and the City
In the city all viruses are super. Nine days into New York, and six into my infection, I awoke from dreams of Rihanna and my Republican grandma on an Alaskan cruise ship to fever and blood. Globular, brick-ish bloody pee. I walked to emergency care. 200 bucks later, at least my doctor was hot. More
Chloe in 2008 was the Sickest, Bar None
I fucking hate this journal. I fucking hate the peeps at the table next to me. I like that I used to come here with Jack. I like that I knew someone named Jack. I like taking writing classes. I like being dyslexic. I like that I can easily accept the fucked up parts about myself. What else are you supposed to do? More
Chloe from ’06 to ’09
Sick the next morning not from drinking but from the way I live my life. Why are we all so cruel? We all talk so much shit. More
Cock of Shame
“It’s nothin’. It’ll be easy. You’ll be fine,” Sonny reassured me, loudly, as if we were the only two people … More
Drought Catalog
I know that to complain about a three-month sex drought will make many play “Hotel California” on the world’s tiniest violins, but I also realize that, ninety days into this sere desert wasteland, I’m afraid I may never have sex again. More
Carbon Dating
If I were rich, what an American refrain. I must really be sick to be singing it.
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TalksFor once, more answers than questions.
Venus Lux Wants To Be Your Mama-San
The model house is all women only, no men or guests allowed. So it’s fun. It’s almost like a fraternity. More
How Do You Punish a Masochist?
All of life is power——the shift and balance of power. More
The Lesbian Whale
I met Barbara in her Chelsea studio a week after I visited her show Lesbian Whale: Early Drawings and Paintings … More
Young Baby’s First Book
Princess Cecily: a coming of age story. She’s just going to fuck people named Mike. Forever. That’s going to be her life. More
A Piece of Strange
Well, why I am fascinated with love and sex is that I think they always include all three: The Beautiful, The Good, and The True. And naturally their opposites. So, Bad Sex. I might also have called it True Love. More
Neither/Nor: Laurie Kang’s Life Fragments
I was watching videos of flatworms mating on YouTube. I was attracted to them because they are inter-sex creatures, and it isn’t about either/or but about neither/nor. More
Gland Slams
There are other images of pre-cum available (check Google). More
Belles-LettresLong(er)form musings on mostly mature themes.
Nothing Personal
In the room we are completely private. But I can hear the public, greedy to see my girlfriend get fucked. Greedy to see her wet body moving on wet plastic. Audrey wants to come and asks me if she can. She is not quiet. I know the men outside can hear. And as I said, I dislike men. More
Celebrity Skin
This time last year, before the second child of Duchess Kate Middleton was born, the tabloids had been waiting with … More
On Fetishes
I wondered what other boners I might have unwittingly launched by guilelessly hanging out in the world. Are people into untied shoes? Nail-biting? Smoking? Lipstick on front teeth? More
Wet
I was 29 and had never noticed this kind of thing before, wetness as a silent form of arousal. More
Fantastic Voyage
I don’t remember a time in my life when I didn’t know who David Bowie was. More
On Hands
In one 1930 portrait, O’Keeffe’s hands caress the dense white bones of a skull with rapture. “I felt my life with both my hands,” writes Emily Dickinson. “To see if it was there.” More
Excerpt—Trans: A Memoir
Juliet Jacques had made so many compromises in managing her gender identity: really, how much could just one more complicate her life?
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Bedtime StoriesReading as need.
Three Ex-Lovers Review Sam McKinniss on Yelp!
Trust me: Sam is just as featureless and self-absorbed as the rest of us and I’ve slept with pretty much everyone. More
Jism For Tears
I actually needed more than pussy-licking now. I needed pussy-sucking. Pussy-swallowing. Full-on rimming. Anal sex. I wanted to gape and take jism. I wanted jism for tears. More
The Ride
You sit on the back of a motorcycle, clung to a young mototaxista who brings you to the bus that will carry you into the city. There’s nothing he can do but let you feel it. More
Sunday Evening
I am eyeing a spot on your body, you know the one with two twin bruises separated by one thin … More
Enter, the Void
Most summers, the women of the neighbourhood would leave their shorts on the shore and dive in off the municipal … More
Goddess and The Worm
It seemed like the perfect name: Worms are feeble, stupid, dirty, slimy, insignificant and ugly——everything this slave wanted to be. More
Outercourse
I’m at the bar, minding my own, stirring my mar-teen and batting my lashes, when a gentlemen approaches, and you … More
