Contributions by Karla Lamb

It’s best not to stare at the spiders that hang in corners, from vents, directly above you. Best not to ruminate on the myriad of arachnids your body has ghosted in your throat. Don’t try to imagine this room that looks like him. A disorder of hard-covers arranged by genre. Don’t envy his loud inhales, …

Here is my acoustic guitar in a room by itself / with no memories or need for a past. // There is my drunk boyfriend playing poker, / the feral sigh of a cat outside.