Contributions by Adam Day

Issue 18 | Summer 2016

In the Arms of His Late Love

By | Poetry

She buried him to the neck, a mouth full of dirt, tarred and steam- rolled asphalt around him. Sat down sweating from her work to a dish of pickled sweet breads and chili basil. He sang a muffled song: If you were as lonely as the moon I would gather like the stars around you. …