SPACE

by Selma Enoksen

by Selma Enoksen

The Deep

By Emily Allen



the vastness of my body calms me like the ocean.

i look in mirrors like i stand on shores, inhaling and marvelling at the deep.

i can feel entire ecosystems kept secret, blanketed by boundless blue, and undercurrents of ancient unknowns that connect continents in the quiet.

but you, you squirm, squinting at where the clear disappears into depths too dark, feel the cold jolt in your stomach when the floor is too far for toes to touch.

you do not care to know what sits below the rippled surface, because the vastness of my body scares you like the ocean.

by Selma Enoksen

If I Lose Weight, Do I Lose Myself?

By Gail Bello

I have tied my identity to my size.

I am as fat as I am

a writer, a woman, Jewish, Queer.

my fatness is just another natural state

innate to my being.

Yet,

sometimes I fear that

I have defined myself by my fatness too much.

I wonder,

Who would I be if I lost it all suddenly?

If illness caused my thick waist to waste away,

or a freak accident left me in a full body cast and no longer full of body

Would I miss my old self?

Would I still love thin me?

Or would I just fall for the privilege

Of Society’s new labels?