Mornings After Our only-waking moments.

Mornings After

Cecilia Corrigan’s Multiple Hot Fluids

I’m obsessed with having multiple hot fluids. I make myself a chai latte, and a cup of coffee, and a cup of tea, and I just cycle through the beverages. Sometimes I order breakfast, and it’s just like, a hot chocolate and a bottle of water. More

Ana Cecilia Alvarez

Sex & Lives Smoking in the corners of New York.

Sex & Lives

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

Elise Peterson

Zabriskie Point
Sex & Lives

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

Chelsea G. Summers

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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

jenny
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

TalksFor once, more answers than questions.

Talks

Consent: It’s Not Sexy

If we knew more about consent, would we speak less of consequences for rape? If we took sex education seriously from the sixth grade on, would we have less to report by the time we get to campuses in America? More

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Talks

Oh Night Divine!

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

Natalie Guevara

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

Belles-Lettres

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

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Belles-Lettres

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
Belles-Lettres

Bachelors

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

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Belles-Lettres

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.

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Bedtime Stories

Scorpion

The other day, I went by the taxidermy shop. Some people like the cinema, others sport. I am encouraged by … More

Stephanie LaCava

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Bedtime Stories

Cravings

A cycle of seasons, of mating and fucking and sleeping dormant and breeding and raising up cubs and sniffing their slipperiest hairs, their powdery drool, of wanting. More

Arielle Greenberg

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Bedtime Stories

So You Can Eat

He prods the egg with a wooden spoon, I wait for him to lift it from the pan and turn the yolk away from me. I can’t stop looking at the center of his breakfast. More

Gabrielle Marceau